deepundergroundpoetry.com
sleepless and waiting at LAX
Spacing out at the edge of the sea
Staring blankly outward ready to fly
I foolishly pushed off the need to sleep
And now the world seems strange to me
This tug of war with consciousness
As it pulls me back over the line
One more time
From sweet release
I am a zombie
Made of impulses
As everything sits at a distance
Detached but aware.
I need to sleep but I can't
I want to drink but I won't
I just bob and weave
My eyes dusted with sand
As I slip in and out of reality
Staring blankly outward ready to fly
I foolishly pushed off the need to sleep
And now the world seems strange to me
This tug of war with consciousness
As it pulls me back over the line
One more time
From sweet release
I am a zombie
Made of impulses
As everything sits at a distance
Detached but aware.
I need to sleep but I can't
I want to drink but I won't
I just bob and weave
My eyes dusted with sand
As I slip in and out of reality
Published 27th Feb 2015
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27th Feb 2015 11:07pm
Been in that place before...a march between insanity and reality. great write.
27th Feb 2015 11:45pm
28th Feb 2015 00:15am
Those insomniatic moments are torturous... drifting between the swirl that unfolds between the subconscious and conscious realms.
28th Feb 2015 00:42am
Being in a state of somnolence in a crowded atmosphere can be kind of a nightmare. A terminal condition, if the wait's too long. It's all you can do to keep track of arrivals and departures. I'd say you have an eloquent grasp of reality despite the jet lag and fatigue, Sammy.
