Oct 2015
Behind closed lids, my eyes darted back and forth
As if trying to see something in the darkness,
As if the dreams were real, the thoughts, the tales
I knew from that point, sleep would not come easily
Suddenly the posters on my walls flew about,
Trying to confuse me, just like the furniture,
I rehearsed the words I would say, if suddenly, one day
And I tossed and turned, wide awake, eyes shut tight
Hiding my face from the furniture, and posters
And eventually I shakily tip toed to the kitchen
And gulped down two giant table spoons of pink liquid
As a last stitch effort to remind myself I was not being watched
As if trying to see something in the darkness,
As if the dreams were real, the thoughts, the tales
I knew from that point, sleep would not come easily
Suddenly the posters on my walls flew about,
Trying to confuse me, just like the furniture,
I rehearsed the words I would say, if suddenly, one day
And I tossed and turned, wide awake, eyes shut tight
Hiding my face from the furniture, and posters
And eventually I shakily tip toed to the kitchen
And gulped down two giant table spoons of pink liquid
As a last stitch effort to remind myself I was not being watched
When I was little, I had nightmares, and insomnia really. Just couldn't sleep because of the bad guys. So I would stay awake shaking until I got the nerve to get my numb body out of bed and beg my mom to give me something to cure my made up stomach ache. Every night, I would drink pepto Bismal so that I could walk hand in hand with my mom down the hall and through my house, and I would hesitantly check every corner of the dark house to make sure everyone was safe. Last night, embarrassingly enough, I got scared, and for the first time in a long while I drank some more of that comforting liquid
