An Insomniac’s Sheep

At night, she lay awake
and thought of a sunbeam
drifting across the wooden floor
from the open window
which she had drawn open

Insomnia

bleary-eyed afternoon;
my morning after
a fitful night

Asking Ouroboros

A collaborative poem between me and Benjamin from The Breakdown of Taboo. Benjamin was also another early writer I discovered on WordPress. He also posted the poem to his site so please visit for more of his thought-provoking poetry!

Regret is like a nightmare:
It grows in the darkness
While suffocating sleep
With its shadowy hands

Its creeping fingers cross
My bed’s threshold
And smothers me
With fatigue and heaviness

Dragging the best parts of me back into the past
But leaving the worst parts of me for the present
Is this feeling a sickness born of my heart?
Or a ghost haunting my memory?

Turning such thoughts in my head
Turning the covers as umbras twist
And I, myself, lost among the thorny bramble
I dare to whisper words aloud:

Always the same words
Always the same answer

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Insomnia

My lover Sleep spurns my bed;
She has gone to romp in moonlit meadows
Casting her beguiling arms around whoever
May find her on the way

Worry

A night of tossing, turning
Over the pea beneath the mattress
Over choices which don’t fit quite right
Brings dark circles
And a dawn slept through

Insomnia

Night rolls into morning rolls into night
Hunger comes only as a dull pang
As if still half-asleep
Unsure to enter or exit
Tiredness sits behind the eyes
Veiled in red spidery webs;
There isn’t an end, only waiting