Well, hey
Here I am again
At 3:48 in the morning
......Again
Just like last night, and the night before....and the night before that and the night before that and-
Well I think you get the picture
But, do you?
Some people laugh when I say I can't sleep
I mean they actually laugh and say
"Have you tried counting sheep?"
Hey....
It's me....again
At 3:48 in the morning....
Again
But if counting sheep solved my problem of sleep then
I wouldn't be counting each heartbeat
Continuing counting each heartbeat
Continuously considering counting countless seconds of heartbeats
I wouldn't be staring at the walls listening
To the crickets in the walls
And the crickets and the crickets and the crickets and the-
That everyone tells me aren't there
And I can see faces in the moonlight and....
Hey....
It's me.....again
At 3:48 in the morning.....again
And I wouldn't pace the room like a caged bird before the sunrise flutters its wings
And I wouldn't memorize the pattern of the cracks in the ceiling
-did you know the one above my head turns right every two and a half inches?-
And the shadows woven into the carpet
And the symphony of the darkness
If I could count sheep now would I?
Do you think I enjoy lying awake at night
Waiting for the break of day
Because then its okay....
Not to sleep
And my mind I buzzing like a swarm of bees
And I'm reading the book of all my past wrongs
Like a Shakespearean sonnet
Like a tragedy
Hey......
its me.....again
At 3:48 in the morning.....
Again...
And it could be anxiety laugh
Hell I wouldn't be surprised
But I march to the drum of insomnia now
The battle hewn recesses of my brain
Crying out for mercy
But there is no white flag
And
The sheep never come
Because if I could count the herd
Then I would not memorize the cracks in the wall
Or the ticking of clock
I wouldn't compose symphonies
In time with the whirring of the fan or the drunk shouting
From outside my window
Because when you close your eyes sometimes everything sounds like music
Falling harmonies and subtle innuendos of
Sleep to come
But......
If I could close my eyes
If I could count sheep instead of heartbeats
If I could stop pacing the track in the floor
If the crickets in the wall didn't keep me up
Then...
I wouldn't be up at 3:48 in the morning
Well, hey
Here I am again
At 3:48 in the morning
......Again

And it's moments like these
where you stop moving and the world
spins
And your body feels so heavy
like rocks, like mountains,
like the whole world is pushing down
like you're drowning
in gravity
like none of the rules of physics apply
And it's like quicksand
there's no bottom to the pit
you've dug
and no ladder, no stairway, no handholds
you're falling
And you feel like you can barely breathe
barely blink
barely live
Depression isn't something cool
not a fad
or a trend
it's a sentence
a death sentence
and I don't know whether or not I can lift it
because somedays,
like today,
it's just too heavy

a man may be bent over with the weight of history
and in turn may never be remembered

when you know you are a worm
you know you are destined to eat dust

It started with a hint upon the air,
the telltale heaviness of anticipation.
A few brave drops fall,
testing their reception on this earth.
Then the drops fall in earnest,
surging down on she who is uncloaked,
embracing the coolness on her skin,
each drop a sweet lingering kiss.
The thunder roars, both terrifying and exhilarating.
The lighting flashes, the wind picks up,
tangling her hair with earnest.
Yet still she stands, embolden by the chaos,
finding peace and comfort in it all.
Your love is a summer storm,
earth-shattering,
deafening,
irresistibly beautiful.

every word
is bitter now
each slowly
turns to smoke
some fires take
too long to die
these ashes choke my throat

But bright hope begins to clear the flu
as brooms do sweep the hearth
stronger flames burst bright anew
And joy dances!
Sing my heart!