I stare at the darkness inside my head.
Counting sheep…
I count the ways I prepared for sleep.
The day plays like a movie.
Can I get a refund?
Even good movies aren’t worth buying sometimes.
The cat’s paws clack past my door.
I feel the pang in my heart of my old cat, gone.
Am I ready for a new cat?
My bed is.
My room is.
Sleep: the soul-sucking abyss.
Less so with a cat of my own.
Too awake to do nothing.
Too tired to get up.
Play with my phone.
“Bright screens reduce your melatonin levels.”
Put down the phone.
Play with my head.
Throw the thoughts around.
They WON’T STOP.
I WANT TO SCREAM BUT I CAN’T.
THERE IS NO SCREAM.
The silence is deafening.
Do every trick in the book.
Slowly I become immune.
Last week it was 5am; now it is 7am.
Embrace me, sleep.
Dreams. I wake up. Back asleep. Dreams. Alarm. Awake. Shut off. Back to sleep. Dreams. Dreams dreams dreams DREAMS. Alarm. Dreams. Alarm. Wake up. Wake up!
I shut off the rest of the alarms.
Tired.
My baaaack.
It doesn’t matter how much or little I sleep.
The dreams never stop.
My brain never stops.
My soul is dead.
The house…
The house is empty.
No distractions.
Just me and my dreams on replay.
Can I get a refund?
What now?
Get up.
Brush teeth.
Get dressed.
The day begins.
On my shoulder sits the soul-sucking abyss known as Sleep.
Chasing Sleep 