Insomnia clung to me while the sly sun slept,
I thought I’d suffocate from his warm breath.
I tossed and I turned; he matched my shape,
My pores sprang beads of sweat
Powerless to fight the fire on my skin.
“I don’t share my bed,” I said, “I am not a whore.”
He wouldn’t budge, so I had to use force.
I pushed and I shoved; he lost his grip,
Fell between the floorboards, with my name on his lips…
These eyelids grew heavy, this mind willed him back
And suddenly I could feel him, watching me through the slats.
Insomnia wanted me.
I wanted Slumber.
But he never came
To claim me.
I thought I’d suffocate from his warm breath.
I tossed and I turned; he matched my shape,
My pores sprang beads of sweat
Powerless to fight the fire on my skin.
“I don’t share my bed,” I said, “I am not a whore.”
He wouldn’t budge, so I had to use force.
I pushed and I shoved; he lost his grip,
Fell between the floorboards, with my name on his lips…
These eyelids grew heavy, this mind willed him back
And suddenly I could feel him, watching me through the slats.
Insomnia wanted me.
I wanted Slumber.
But he never came
To claim me.
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