Ever since quitting the drink I find myself fighting sleep every night. Albeit subconsciously, I do it night in, night out and I don’t know why. When I let myself drift off it’s not like it’s a struggle but it’s like I do everything in my power to keep my eyes open and for what? Examine this with me, will you?
Alone in the dark, under roof without stars. When the day stretches long and I’m stranded on Mars. I could be anyone, anywhere, any time. With my eyes open wide and with nothing to find.
So I drift then consume needless eats in the dark. In my shorts with my phone as my flashlight embark. Tiptoeing quiet on carpeted cloister. All sleepy yet restless and eyes without moisture.
Spending time on the john when I’m needed in bed. By myself, for myself, keeping active, my head. Then I put on the music and I give in to sleep ’til I wake up again and this process repeat.
So why do I do it? Isn’t keeping still and staying asleep a more viable option here? The nights don’t need to be this long. There is more rest to be had if I would just let it possess me the way it was intended. And this infernal phone should be not in my clutches. It can’t be helping, this blue light or whatever singeing my sockets.
I’m sure this summer of hell heat is also a factor, though this has been going on, I want to say, before this eternal wave. Whatever the reasoning or lack of it it needs to stop. I must remember that sleep is my friend. The darkness is welcome. Let me shut down and let it wash over me. Or something like that.
Into sleep, let me go. Escape this ominous glow. For my health and my psyche, in the night I go spritely. If I wake then I’ll lay. Won’t think words I should say. And when morning arises, rest will be what my prize is.