The brightest light is shining through
hand sewn curtains
coming from a street-light
that stares me down while
I try to sleep.
The little red dot on my TV
stares me down
as insomnia carries
my weightless body
back to the thoughts of yesterday.
My thoughts are pointless
at 2 a.m.
worrying about what I'll wear
or what people will think of it.
The walls hold me in
a cage of senseless perception
as I try to escape
to my far-off land
of dreams.
The monsters under my bed
and the ones in my closet
snicker and giggle
at my brain that is
fearing if I'll ever drift
into sleep.
What I've realized is that
the monsters under my bed
are not there,
but in my head.
I've been listening to a lot of the '50s lately. Digging it.