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 this 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
There’s still another day and hope. That’s what I got at the end of all your suffering. I believe there will be an end to suffering and we will still be on this earth to experience it.
Your poem is powerful.
sleep would be a good end to it. thank you
I hear you on that, I do. Sleep deprivation is no joke. Either is the torment of insomnia.
Happy Tuesday, ambjr.
hello dearest poet your poem moved me deeply my sleep is filled with nightmares too I hate to sleep…your lady sounds beautiful but I understand the deep seeded fear of losing her…I can’t advise as I have found few answers in my search for freedom and with all the bad dreams I fear about the immortal… I hope you find peace my friend ❤️
sleep is rough. sorry you struggle with it too. she’s pretty amazin. deserves better…more.
Powerfully penned, Ambjr. Intense read my friend. Appreciate you.
Damian
thank you