if sleep is for the weak, why aren’t i strong?
clearly that saying is nothing but wrong
but i’m forced to smile when people play along
“oh i couldn’t sleep either! i can relate”
i wouldn’t wish this on my terrible roommate
to lie in bed as i deteriorate
knowing the next morning will retaliate
i’ll barely be able to make it through the day
or much less hide my decay
it hurts when you don’t understand what i say
i wasn’t anxious or in complete disarray
i’m genuinely insane or at least halfway
you don’t know what it does to a person to be forced to stay awake
i’ve tried everything, even posting want ads
in hopes to find the sleep everyone else seems to have
i cry every night, not because i’m sad
but because i’m so frustrated with my new fad
of staying awake all hours of the night
ignoring the aching i’m given out of spite
it’s enough to make me wish to run into the light
and finally reward myself with a sleep filled night
the problem is i’m a bit of a socialite
i keep what i go through out of sight
if i don’t i may be viewed as impolite
for speaking only of struggle in search of a spotlight
so every night i’m filled with nausea
at the dread of wanting to avoid the phenomena
of another sleepless night of ignoring the obvious
my brain is sick because I have insomnia
The long night, one of many.
A person glances at a clock radio.
They are neither asleep nor awake.
They lie there, uncomfortable, restless.
Their mind races away, teasing them with scenarios of ruin.
The seconds tick by, slowly.
The person longs for sleep,
Or for dawn, for a new day.
An hour later, they remain awake,
Unable to relax, but unable to think properly.
I fell asleep on the sofa
as if that want the plan
sleep come so rarely
i do it where i can.
I woke up on the sofa
with a crick in my back
pleased that my dreams
Will no longer attack.
I rose from my sofa
to fetch myself a drink
i have come to the conclussion
that maybe i over think.
I looked at the sofa
dominating the room
last nigh was so successful
i will be back soon.
I reasoned that my sofa
was as good as a bed
who's going to tell on me
now that sleep has fled.
I have hope that my sofa
appreciated the use
doing it's job expertly
sleep and i made a truce.
With night comes thoughts into my mind
Philosophically broad and deep
Why do I sit here counting fireflies
When I should be fast asleep?
What if Atlas shrugged
And Prometheus lied?
Enkidu lived
And Gilgamesh died?
Horus instead had been fried?
Anubis a coward who'd always hide?
What if we're all dead inside
And stay that way because of pride?
What is the difference between apples and oranges?
Why are patients so afraid of syringes?
Why must something go up, and then down
Why do the wealthy always seem to frown?
What I'm trying to say
I must protest
Whilst I stutter
And give it my best
That life is all-in-all a test
To live or die beyond our rest
Rest, rest, I wish I could
And if I could, I surely would
Some peace and quiet, I must confess
Would surely give this brain a rest
SLEEP
Sometimes at night
When I can’t sleep
I start to count
Those stupid sheep
One by one
Or two by two
So then I have
Something to do
I hope I don’t
Seem really dumb
But where the heck
Do they come from
I’m sure it’s not
This great big flock
That they break out of
Around the clock
They must wind up
In some large pen
Something, big enough
To keep them in
They can’t just go
On their merry way
You can’t just let them
Go astray
So I wait
For Little Bo Beep
To take her flock
And let me sleep
BOEMS BY JA 104
Sleep continues eluding me
while thoughts of you keep pursuing,
stopping my dreams from unfolding
& knowing dawn comes early,
it wakes me to reality
knowing there will never be
what could've been, what might've been,
& so I'm waiting, while pursuing
a kind of on-hold aching peace
filled with lingering remembering
wondering if you, too
are ever sleepless
thinking about me................................
Sleep calls to me,
but my heart is just not listening,
as the overflow
keeps gently falling
like autumn rain
on gardens still growing
though summer's come & gone already,
with winter's soon arrival coming,
when the seed will finally fall & die
when you're no longer in my life
but in the one to come, & finally
home will be reality
as it always felt yet never could be
between us, as it was meant to be.....................
I love you more than I've let free,
it remains hidden within the depths of me,
as I let you go you're still in all I see,
but I know I must just let you be
while reaching yet withdrawing, all in disguise,
it's expressing from my eyes & with my sighs,
yet words are never spoken freely,
truths are hidden, although I see
this love will never go away
until we do, & that's ok,
love never ends,
til we go home...
...I'll endure loving while alone...................
Sleep's the escape
I need to find,
I cannot get you off my mind,
but I know I must crucify
what's refusing to depart or die,
so exhausted though I am right now
I will lay all this down somehow
& let His Spirit minister to my heart
that {even with His peace} is still torn apart,
only He knows the secrets within,
only He understands my secret sin,
only He can help me understand
what is & isn't in His plan,
so sleep, come find me, bring release
from words that circle, searching for peace.
*~*~*~*~*
~ Anastazia Rowe ~
Oct. 30th, 4 am, 2017.
Dear Slumber,
Why do you play hard to get? Are you coy and shy? Or are you power-tripping on your ability to stay just beyond my grasp? The more I pursue you, the more elusive you become. You're such a flirtatious tease--flaunting and dangling your seductive wares with no intention of paying up. Just empty promises. A yawn here, a nod of the head there, but no real payoff. It's cruel--false advertisement is criminal. You've got me grinding my teeth in frustration--giving me just enough to make me realize there's something bigger just out of my reach--guaranteeing I'll keep coming back until I attain that nebulous "more". My eyes are burning. Tears streaming down my cheeks. The tension is unbearable. And yet, I can't be angry because I need you. You have unfair advanage because the entire world needs and wants you--and those who say they don't are lying to themselves. What's it like to be desired by 7 Billion people? However, for the moment, let's not worry about the other 6,999,999,999. I know I have to share you. I accept that. But tonight--it's just about you and me, and in this moment, all I know is that I can't see straight without you. Can't think straight without you. Don't wanna hafta go another day--not another minute--without you. It seems impossible to get enough of you. I'm dangerous and in pain from the lack of you. I don't wanna play games with you. I know some fight you--but that's not me. I'll take you whenever and wherever and however I can get you: be it day or night--bed, floor, car, in a roomful of people. I. DON'T. CARE. Can't you see that I'm desperate? I'm shamelessly begging. Praying. Please don't toy with me anymore. I'm too old for this. Is this payback for my youthful ignorance and indiscretion and immaturity when I thought I could get along without you? If so, then I swear, I'll never take you for granted again. I've learned my lesson. I'm waving the white flag. I'm not going anywhere. There's no substitute for you. I love you, and when you're ready, you know where to find me. Until then, I'll be. . .
Waiting,
Kyla
He thrashes around in his sleep now
Punching the wet pillow
Choking the cold blankets
Kicking the empty air
Yelling at only himself
Sometimes he shouts your name
With eyes shut
And ears deaf
However tears still flee
And his hands stick to his ears
Sometimes he holds his breath
He sleeps longer when he does
Fighting his urges to breathe
Waiting for something
Whether it be your arrival
Or his demise
Sometimes he clenches his wrist
Holding on tighter and tighter
Where the healed scars lay
Until they go back to normal
Until they go back to bloody
He remains unaware of the stinging pain
Until his dirty nails tap his vein
Sometimes he wakes
In the middle of the night
Yelling how his shoulder burns
Dying for it to stop
But to the touch its cold as ice
With a hint of dust
And it’s not both shoulders
Just the one you chose
To lie your sweaty hand upon
As you poisoned his dreams