awake

I don’t sleep much these days  
 
nightmares wait patiently
crouched in the corners of sleep
where I’m small again  
beneath thunderous rage
cowerin from the shadow
that swallows everythin I am
I wake chokin on panic
that I’ve spent years swallowin down
heart thrashin in my chest
as terror outlasts my dreams
 
I don’t sleep much these days
 
music arrivin without warnin
midnight melodies spinnin circles in my mind
fingers twitch tied to strings
ivory key puppeteer beckonin me
down the stairs drawn by notes
only I can hear
more familiar than my own pulse  
where my first love waits for me in shadows
confessor. therapist. only companion.
compositions born in sleepless hours
translatin myself into somethin
that might outlive this brokenness
 
I don’t sleep much these days
 
her body warm and trustin beside me
I watch the rise and fall of her breath
desire and self loathin battlin within
I long for her taste
the soft sounds that she makes
how completely I can lose myself in her
before my demons wedge themselves between us
constructin elaborate arguments
of why she should leave
before I reduce us to rubble  
collectin all of the ways I’ve failed her
all of ways I’ll continue to fail  
but when the darkness gets too heavy
her sleepin hand finds mine
keepin me tethered to this world  
 
I don’t sleep much these days
 
this heaviness fills me
til I become nothin else
just a home built for ache
and the things I can’t quite name
the gravity of it pullin me deeper into myself
pressin my hand to my chest
just to see if anythin still beats beneath
if anythin is left worth savin  
contemplatin a final stand  
not violent or dramatic  
just quiet
 
I don’t sleep much these days  
 
but the sun still rises
and I with it