Oh, Bed, why must I suffer because of you?

I love you and hate you, when I pull up the blankets to cover my pain;

I am a fragile soul, vulnerable to sadness and sorrow,

And I used to love to sleep the misery away,

But now I can’t even bear it, too afraid of

What’s waiting on the other side of my eyes;

Oh, Bed, don’t torment me like this, please,

When I try to slumber but begin to weep because of my agony,

And I see the worst in my mind’s eye, thinking of you, O Bed,

And wanting to die, with insomnia as my comfort to stay with me;

Oh, Bed, how you ruin my life again and again!

I finally break the surface of the rushing torrents of your black, 

Bottomless river of doubt, but I’m swept away again into the treacherous currents,

Smashing into jagged rocks that cut me open along your shore until I bleed;

Bare, lifeless trees surround me, as danger lurks in every shadow,

With no sun and no moon to guide the way to safety, and rabid monsters

Lie in wait to split open the throat of their prey;

I used to love it here, though, with the darkness to soothe me into sleep,

As nightlights became nonexistent in my life,

But, O Bed, you control me now, making rest no longer important;

So, O Bed, have you gotten what you wanted from me?

My peace, my heart, my young life, you’ve stolen from me, right, O Bed?

Until I am a broken mess of shards of glass, 

Ready to split the skin of my arms to relieve this aching despair;

Oh, Bed, why must I suffer awake for the mere reason of terrifying nightmares?