I. To sleep...

As if I needed affirmation
of the weekend from a mouse

As if I needed mutually
indecipherable dialogue

As if I need a hip social setting
when Insomnia gets off on my inside

As if I need a drink for the prodding
of my eyes or charisma for the charming of hers

As if we need a hotel or a bed
for that matter in Dormiveglia

II.* ...perchance to dream.*

Darling Insomnia
how you dazzle in your quilted
queendom of suction

Darling Insomnia
**** out the vanilla gumming
up my timid lungs like sugared venom

Darling Insomnia
I promise I won't burden you with moans of
fantasy-inflicted headaches

Darling Insomnia
let your sirrah latch his inhalation
onto your majestic ***** like an asp

Darling Insomnia
does subordination in my windpipe
do right by your despotic grasp?

The space in time that stretches between sleeping and waking
Some dream, some don't, some scream, some won't...the point I'm making
Is that in dreams we enter a world which is entirely our own - as my man Dumbledore once put it.
Anything is possible but it's not up to you, actually I don't know who it's up to
But somehow in sleep we all come alive
And live out the narrative in our slumber until dawn does arrive.

Sometimes I wish would never wake up
But then I realise there's no point in wishing for the impossible...

Intoxicated by
Aged, wooden feelings
Of yesterday's
Faults