Sleepless Nights

I lie awake in bed staring at the ceiling tiles that seem to float above me. First at each individually, and then back as a whole. Noticing every dot and curve in the cheap design used in this college dorm. But as cheap as it appears, I can still find some uniqueness in each.

My eyes signal out some pieces of one section, crafting each small fragment into a picture. I let my imagination work, seeing ancient civilizations at war, groups of Christmas trees, and machinery transforming into wildlife before my eyes.

The gears turn into vines that breathe life into the sky and for a moment I can sense a feeling of tranquility spread through my body. In my head I feel alive. But even the bed that grasps me from beneath is questionable in my reality.

But in the darkness as I try to fall asleep as the only living thing is this room I feel a sense of dread. A pressing sense creeps upon me, a sense that tells me that these pictures on the ceiling won’t always stay here. I fear that in the morning, after an hour of sleep. I won’t remember this.

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I fear I won’t remember me.

Creative Pieces dear hope

Insomnia: I Had A Dream I Fell Asleep

My entire body is heavy.

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My eyelids blink with the consistency of a frozen stream. The entire room is an object in motion with the lowest shutter speed from a camera a few decades old, rusted through the dust that collects on the outside of my pupils. I roll over in an attempt to make myself more comfortable.

3:40 A.M reads the clock on my bedside.

I sigh and roll back over, throwing my arm over my forehead with my palm facing upwards.

It’s been two weeks of this. Going on three. Why can’t I sleep? Please God let me sleep.

I’m tired but the sleep won’t find me. I remain invisible to the dust that needs to fall on my eyelids. It’s like I don’t exist. The rest of the world is asleep and here I am,

Awake.

Alone.

With only my thoughts.

Article dear hope Insomnia