Cigarettes and coffee
At midnight every night
People wonder why I don't sleep
But I don't question it
Nor do I care at all.

Sleep never did me any good
I was always exhausted anyway.
Nightmares took my mind
And passed it between their grimy fingers.
I do not wish to be subjected to that again.

Now, as a self-induced insomniac
These nightmares merely come true
Or they show up
In the form of hallucinations.

I guess when I found slumber
I had a better grip on my emotions.
But so what?
I am still out of control either way.

Sleep or no sleep
I am a sad and lonely
Shell of a human being
And I pray every night
That I will be okay again someday.