sheep at night, (1 a.m.)
(but i always thought that sheep were not the best farm animal to represent insomnia.). eventually sheep turns to old memories, choke down like hard candies. hurts to swallow. or maybe that's just the tears.

(2 a.m.)or bottles of beer on a wall, except i'm
numbering the ones on your floor, shattered. drinking never made you better but it never stopped you from opening another. and another.

(3 a.m.) numbers of leaves on clovers. i picked so many and i found one four-leaf one. i lost it and never found another. is it possible to lose luck as it is to gain it? if that's the case, it explains where you went.

i counted. i have.

i count but i've lost track.