I Remember, I was twelve.
It was the first time I stayed up the whole night.
Not because I could but because my friend said I couldn't.
Curled with a book, stifling yawn after yawn.
I watched the sun rise
So elated. So naive.
Afterall who'd willingly pass up on sleep if not a child.
I remember I was twelve
Escaping clutches of sweet sleep.
Six years later I lay in bed,
Struggling to call the sleep I pushed away.
Staring aimlessly, frustrated,
screaming into a pillow, clutching it tightly.
6:40am IST
My eyes sting and relentless tears stream from them falling like caresses on my cheek.
I twist, I turn.
I try and try some more,
Then slowly succumb to boredom,
Seeking the sleep I hid from.
I m not sure if this is a poem.
