Insomniatic

When you have insomnia
You’re never really asleep…
And you’re never really awake.  
The things that define reality and dreams
Blur together and cease to exist
      
My mind wanders
And bumps into things in the dark
I stumble over tomorrows ghosts
As they shimmer in the shadows
Losing themselves before they begin
 
I laugh at the thought of lactating owls
I don’t know why it’s funny  
I choke on my smoke
Coughing until the hysteria subsides
And the fall begins
 
I’m talking to the walls again  
Whispering them my secrets
When the TV talks at me  
The walls don’t talk back  
Letting me vent my silence
 
The air stares at me  
And I stare at back at it  
We aren’t seeing each other  
It’s all looking through  
To the void on the other side
 
Everything ceases to having meaning  
The madness gives way to an abyss
I am staring down the barrel of an empty gun  
We’re playing chicken
It won’t shoot me and I won’t get shot
 
The silence screams so loudly  
My head wants to implode
I’m begging for sleep to come  
When you have insomnia  
You are never really anything at all  
 
Day becomes night  
And night becomes day  
The glass wall is inside your head  
Take an axe to it…
It’s nothing but smoke it your hands
 
The ghosts creep and whisper
Dancing for my eyes only  
When you have insomnia…
The things that define reality and dreams
Blur together and cease to exist
 
In the darkness reflected  
From the screen glaring back at me  
I am a pin prick in the universe
A mark to be washed away  
As though I never existed at all  
 
© Indie Adams 2011