Insomnia

[Pocket Rocket]

Billowed canvases of light,

Cold electric and untamed.

Arrows,

Deafen in the dark.

You count the minutes - they have names,

Those anacondas of the mind.

 

To attention, on the table,

Bald and raw to reddened eyes,

Gunshot white and bitter to the taste.

In all, you are but shadowed walls -

You squeeze, you squeeze; you suffocate.

 

Gestures, moments and

A face; it screams, it screams

And ends the night.

[Clementine orange]

Excellent poem - I have insomnia too - it's brutal.

 

the minutes have names - exactly right...

[Portage]

*SIGH* i can also relate

 

Great job

[Pocket Rocket]

Thanks I'm always reluctant to post my poetry but this in one of my favourites so I thought I'd share. I'm glad there's others who can relate, but sad at the same time that so many of us out there suffer sleepless nights thanks again for the replies.