It been days
Since I've slipped into blissful sleep.
I'm running on fumes
Of nothing but caffeine.
My bed mocks me
And my pillows call my name.
The only relief I have,
Is a cigarette or two
At 3 a.m.
My hands shake
And so do my legs
As I tell everyone I'm okay.
"You need sleep"
They urge.
But this is the life
Of an insomniac.