Sleep is like an enemy that my mind keeps fighting oversensitized media fireworks firing my neurons a circadian rhythm on the spin cycle and even though I'm not sleeping reality is dwelling in hints while obelisks of disorientation  block my sign of light to solid ground. I know my nightmares are in the shadows, watching me, stalking their prey and waiting till slumber sets me down like an adult does to an out of hand child, leaving me vulnerable in innocence to be filled with their toxic energy on one who is too open to the universe. Poor sensitive indigo child you feel the earth breathing and things that should not be there.