Insomnia

Some nights I don’t sleep.
This is shaping up to be -
one of those nights.


The world shuts down around me.
I whirl on,
an empty dryer running in an all night laundromat.


This is not a Haiku.
I’m not a poet.


The phrasing is supposed to convey, display, imbue -
my fragmented, sleepless mind.


It’s a stream of consciousness probably appearing -
more pretentious than sincere,
sanded, buffed and varnished over raw.


Whatever, I just want to sleep.


Minutes and moments march into hours.
Every effort to drift off is more ineffectual than the last.


It builds on itself,
a house of cards cemented together with epoxy.


Ok, sleep in five, four, three, two, one…


Damn.


Can’t sleep, why?
Not sure, this time.
Dread of the impending Monday morning mundane?


The cat howls at the door.
A simple meow does not suffice when you want out so bad.


I open the door, salvation is hers.
A sound, the wind, a dark shadow -
something makes her recoil.


Salvation is lost.


This is nothing new,
she’ll be back shortly,
screeching again for what she thinks she wants.
The sameness of this moment to the last eluding her.


Maybe we’re not so different,
Her and I.