Insomnia Awakens My Demons

I lie awake. Awake. Wide awake. My head is throbbing. Pounding. Aching. My heart is hurting. Yearning. Desiring. The white ceiling stares back at me, mockingly. Pitying me, and my wide awake mind. My mind, running circles, ceasing to quit no matter how much it hurts. No matter the pain. Ignore it. Shut it out. Do not share your emotions. Put them in a box, in a far away place where it can never be retrieved. Every inch of my body complains. My stomach gurgles, my legs tingle, my shoulders burn. All reminding me that no - I am not asleep. For sleep is the escape. Sleep is the dulling of my pain, the numbing of my senses, the erase of today’s happenings. So why does sleep never come? Because it’s too easy. Too easy to use it as an excuse. “Sleep it off” They say, “You’ll feel better in the morning,” They say. The sun sets. It rises. My purple sagging skin beneath my eyes is the proof that sleeping would be too easy. Why sleep when you can lie awake picking apart every inch, every centimeter of your entire existence? Every god damned minute I continue to exist is another sixty seconds I will rip apart in the hours that world is quiet. When the world is quiet my mind is not.