Like a bug, it only started a few weeks ago. When my heart wept and trenches of tears formed down my face. When everything started going South, a breeze passed me by and swept away any peace of sleep I had left. My eyelids are heavy but my thoughts are heavier, my imagination weak.
3am is my companion, 4am knows all my secrets, this loneliness is eating a part of me. I tightly close my eyes but the darkness within is much more terrifying than that on the outside. The silence is so loud that I can hear my own heart beat, let alone my spaced breaths.
It’s like a remembrance of every silly decision I ever made, the only time I get to regret anything and the worst thing is that I can’t find beauty in what is broken but rather pain.
I lie awake at 3am. My demons are shy at times- I am bored now. Thinking of the things I have to do again, the pills I will have to buy tomorrow, for this pain can not be endured- I need my beloved sleep wrong.
As I wait for morning, I think to myself- Did I take coffee? No. Did I anger the gods of sleep? Perhaps. I am a headless chicken, living each moment as it comes by.
To many, insomnia is a joke they happily talk about when the sun comes out and the birds sing a sweet song of pride. When I awake, there are no birds singing, just hens screaming and the sun violently shinning like it had a quarrel with the moon. But who cares?
I be still as I get on my knees and recite a prayer, for my heart, and for my life, and for sleep. Insomnia is the only battle I haven’t won.