there are too many hours of the day that I am awake for;
twenty-four is a number I have come to dread.
I hate that I'm rolling around for hours and hours,
watching the colours shift across the sky
from one agonising hour to the other
when I'm trapped in this body, this brain, this mind,
this me.

i hate the fact that an empty echoing house
is all that I have to come back to
and that my worst nightmares
are my every day realities;
just me, awake, all day, all night,
all alone in this ******* world.

i hate that the warm body and warmer soul I want to make love to
in whose arms I want to spend every night -
wants nothing but return to the comfort of his own bed,
leaving me to battle another ****** night
with the demons that devour my brain.

i hate that for every twenty seconds of sleep I sneakily ******,
i'm made to pay through weeks of wakefullness
that settles heavily into my muscles and my bones
leaving me aching and restless, making survival
a struggle and not a goal.
I hate this.
there are too many hours of the day that I am awake for -
**i want to be awake for none at all.