When Sleep Comes Not

When sleep comes not… I rest upon my chair…fingers on the go, ready to release the pent up thoughts… to find the peace that comes when I am empty of word and thought once again.

When sleep comes not…I have seen one of them die…and I awake with knotted throat in fear of what is not real…and praying they are sleeping sweetly yet.

When sleep comes not…all that is plain to see in daylight hours…becomes a monster of its own…feelings are not exempt and I pray that I won’t drown in them as I empty my heart into this technological void.

When sleep comes not…my tea bags are abused and my cup will finally be sitting as empty as I feel… and finally know that I am ready to try again.

When sleep comes not…600 count sheets mean not a thing…naked skin, soft fabric, pillows from heaven, do not bring what I want most… to simply sleep.

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