Somnia

Insomnia

And I sleep,
or contemplate sleep,
or lust after sleep,
as if it'd be
a benediction -
wake on a breath,
melt in
to the heroic lullaby
of deep, heavy rain
hitting the frames, hitting the roof,
that used to do it for me -
and when it still doesn't come
I have been known to fold
on other means
like reading,
like yawning,
like collapsing inward and closing,
it just isn't enough anymore,
the body slugs on
searching for hope in her waking hours,
so now one has to reach out
to pained levels of exhaustion
where eyes tick
and the clocks go dry.