Health Diaries » Weight Loss » Becoming My Passion

February 13, 2006

Fitful Nights

Don’t really know what’s behind that. So why am I drinking coffee at 11:48 PM? Good question, I rarely drink coffee period. I usually get in a cup or two once a month, yeah and I was born in Seattle, go figure! Two days ago it was the weird kind of non-sleep where you want to sleep bad but can’t do anything! You lay, sit stand walk, read, type and you still can’t sleep!

Finally got out a poem. I don’t expect there’s any sleep planned for tonight. I don’t know if it’s excitement or what. I don’t feel stressed. Hmm. I guess I’ll be stealing more hours.

The Stolen Hours

Can’t sleep; don’t dare think
Too late, the mind’s in motion
Same old questions…

How did I get here?
Where the hell am I going?
What drives me on?
--Keeps pushing this merry-go-round
Who am I really and
Life, Do I really care?

The absence of noise at night frightens me
When I can’t sleep
Comforts me
When I choose to stay awake--writing

Reflection is just an evil manifestation of
Self doubt, total, complete, unfiltered
Hungrily I long for the brains of those in the know
Of what they’d do, always done, will continue to do
Their dreams.

Waning hours blur my typical allies:
Coffee, Music, cigarettes, dreams
One keeps you awake
The other makes you think, afraid to shut the eyes
Where nightmares lie in wait
And then there’s cancer
Which everything causes…
I squint on no closer to slumber

Do writers ever sleep?
Or pretend,
Ready to pounce thoughts artistic
To work, rework, musing to steal the night away.
Hours ticking by like the drip drip drip of a nasty faucet
Down the drain.

Posted by ijellorca on February 13, 2006 11:58 PM | DIGG | del.icio.us | furl

Recent Entries

February 13, 2006

Fitful Nights

Bookshelf