I crawl into my nook under a warm blanket of self-love. Darkness fills my void and I succumb to sleep.

The sheep I count are green and three-legged, there’s daisies for clouds and orange grass. I’m soaring through space outside of some distant planet’s atmosphere. I’m on my feet, on my block.

Suddenly, the warmth is pulled from me like a turkey baster fills with broth. And I feel a bony hand on the square of my back. It’s cold and it seems to come into me.

I’m wide awake.

The unwavering attendance of the Ghost Insomnia fills me like hate. I toss I turn, I feel it so close. It begins to warm me from the inside out. My eyes soon feel fuzzy, and bounce around in my skull; I can no longer read the time on the clock. My lips feel chapped shut, I can only breathe through my nose now. Shapes being to shift.

Where are you taking me?

Do you know what you’ve done to me?

And yet, each time morning arrives and the golden sun stretches across the sky and peaks through my window, I watch it do so. I watch it as the dark night sky soon turns lighter. It then becomes a light blue - the color of day and quickly transitions to a honey colored haze.

The sandbags under my eyes could’ve saved New Orleans.

Where are you taking me?

The wind whirls

and traffic stops

Bring on the rain

and watch it pour for miles

all around

Thoughts and dreams melt from the sky

To be there with you is one thing

to have you with me is another

Waiting patiently

sometimes too anxious

I turn again to patience

Time ticks as the rain falls

as will the sun

Though it rises

and we have our victories

it soon shall set

upon our defeats

Rise with the sun

not after

and realize the prosperity one has

of being free

Free from all ideas, demands, wants, greed

evil and need

I fight my way against the traffic

as does the rain against

windshields

I’m greedy too I tell myself

but aren’t we all?

There are too many people I find beautiful. Beautiful in thousands of other ways than just their appearance. Their beauty is captivating, like a vase full of different kinds of flowers.
You pick it up when you think it needs water and you move it over to the sink, but somehow I always end up dropping myself.
A vase of flowers wouldn’t know to pick up the pieces.

To stand atop the tallest mountain, I would not be high enough.
To scream louder than a million decibels, I would not be loud enough.
To sink to the bottomest depth, I would not be hidden.
To freeze in time, I could not escape.
I desire to escape all but what I want.
But what we want, not need, we are inherent in failure.

Burn.
Yes, burn as a fire should
and melt away icicles that threaten your
livelihood.

I used to enjoy writing.

     I used to hate the government.

          I used to be expressive.

     I used to love you.

I used to be young and foolish.

     I grew up.

          I gained a tainted mind, spoiled by reality.

     I used to be naive, gullible - now I’m shocked and upset by reality.
It’s not what my mind perceived.

                I’m mad at myself.