It’s 9:00 PM where I am. Insomnia’s grip on me seems to be loosening and sleep closes in. Finally. That *******.

Every night, for the whole of three months, I lay in bed awake at night, pleading with him to let me rest. Then, suddenly… out of nowhere, my mind begins to wander; dangerously. I am a gypsy, a mystic, an architect, artist, scientist, astronomer, an angel, Satan himself and, most recently, a poet.

I haven’t written poetry since 4th grade.

My dream spirit comes. I’ve missed her.