Dusty Poetry #68

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Insomnia

The ticking clock.
The warm blanket.
The comfortable pillow.
Midnight.
The internet scrolling.
The late night snack.
The comfortable spot on the couch.
The alarm resetting.
The return to bed.
The restless thoughts.
The internet scrolling.
One.
The conversation twenty-two years ago.
The thoughts about time-travel.
Two.
The ache in the neck.
The flipping the pillow over.
The clamber out of bed to find socks.
The return to bed.
Four.
The removal of socks.
The conversation ten years ago that didn’t happen.
The thoughts about time-travel.
The internet stalking.
The yawn.
The “how much sleep do I need?” math.
The alarm resetting.
The brightening of the sky outside.
Six.
The surrender.
The alarm turned off.
The coffee brewing.
The fuzzy thoughts.
The walk outside.
The too bright sunlight.
The nervous drive to work.
The people who slept.
The inability to form sentences.
Eight.
The breakroom coffee.
The cubicle breakfast.
The angry digestive tract.
The day on autopilot.
The nervous drive home.
Five.
Leftovers.
The comfortable spot on the couch.
Dozing off.
Nine.
Bed.
The warm blanket.
The comfortable pillow.
The ticking clock.
The internet scrolling.