Each night before I go to Sleep,
A decision has to be made in favor
Of one method or another
To help make that precious name a reality.
Some nights I try the one hand.
At least then my tossing and turning is natural,
And if at last I decide to embrace the Open-Eyed World,
I can.
Other nights I try the other.
The drugs paralyze me for endless hours,
But at least amid my nightmares I'm not conscious
And the next day I can think that I've tasted Sleep.
Every night the decision must be made, but I've come to realize,
Equal mass of skin and bones, neither hand weighs better.