insomnia

night won't breathe, oh how we
fall in silence from the sky
and whisper some silver reply

unwilling to go to bed because i'm afraid of the way my mind drifts right before i fall asleep. afraid of what i might dream.

instead, soft violin alongside a bird's solo chirping. the midnight breeze swirls into the room and lingers, bringing with it darkness and the quiet of the night.

you woke me up again. i'd pushed you into the corners of my mind, where i thought i could trap you, but you dragged yourself into my early morning reveries. i might have escaped without remembering, if it weren't for an unfortunate artificial disturbing of my REM sleep.

really, only you could terrify me with a smile.