Going to bed at 2am is asking for trouble.
I lie awake,
my thoughts all jumbled.

I think about something that happened ten years ago,
things that could happen in the future,
and I cry.
I begin to question my path in life.
It doesn't seem like anything will get better with time.

I glance across the room,
my sister is awake too.
We chat in the half lit room about the thoughts preventing us from sleep.
She closes the window,
and through the blinds I notice the sky is already
a light shade of blue.

She settles back down in her bed,
rubbing her leg which is an angry red, (wear sun cream kids)
complains about the pain,
and how it is keeping her awake.

She tries again to sleep.

I think about doing the same,
the seagulls outside exclaim that it is morning,
but first and foremost
I must finish writing this poem.