Sleep

My eyes are heavy,

my chest a cavity weighed down by alien wiles, 

I want to fall asleep. 

To rip myself apart and be left with lunar moths fleeing my cavern skull, 

floating away into the moon, 

unbound by law or purpose or existential awareness.

The only light they seek is that of the night,

when the animals are all asleep and the universe can peer down beneath the clouds, 

exposing the harmonious discord of our blinking existence that is too often blocked out by illusions of eternal blue skies. 

But blue is a lie, 

a deception of the light that would cease to exist if the whole world were to look away.