Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.

How many hours have passed?
She's taken a thousands breaths
On a couch in another room, another world.

I wonder what she dreams of.
Is she sad? Is she glad? Or is she mad?
Breathing alone never really told her tale.

Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.

It's getting late. Or is it getting early?
The hours are growing shorter before I must wake.
An insomniac's night quickly becomes light.

When you can't sleep, you aren't alone.
A million sounds normally tuned out become music.
A gentle cacophony against the light ambiance of machinery.

Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.

I've been trying to sleep for five hours.
Eighteen thousand moments of silence.
Eighteen thousand moments of reflection.

The sun is rising, and hopes of sleep are fading.
The world is waking, and I'm finally drifting.
My eyes are nearly shut, it is time for rest.

Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Toc-

Alarm.

Time to do it all over again.