One of my closest friends
Has a nasty habit
Of visiting by night
And leaving in the morning.

She's never told me her name,
And I've got no photos nor descriptions
Nor people to prove that is really her.
But still, I call her Insomnia.

When the night goes still
And the others go to sleep
She arises in all her glory
Captivating my attention.

She whispers stories all night
Forming pictures behind my eyelids
"Give me a minute, let me write it down"
But she stays silent when I grab a pen

She's a bumbling bundle of life
In a night full of slumber
"Be quiet I need to sleep"
Yet she talks, and I keep listening.

"Shut up, I want to rest"
I tell her again with a yawn
But not even music can drown out her words
Alarmingly loud in still nights.

Ignoring my closing eyes,
I commit her words to memory
In the morning, she won't be there
To let me live another life.

She's the reason I have
Dark bags under my eyes.
But still, I don't mind.
I need the company.

She's my closest friend,
Dead dreamer coming alive
In the dead of the night
Shimmering with the shadows.

Unlikely company
Not the best, I'm sure
Still, I let her speak
And hold me close.

After all, darling
Misery loves company
Even if it means
Another sleepless night.