Taunting Thoughts

Night is gone and it is still dark Thinking is beyond me, But, nevertheless, thoughts rattle my sleep Certain ones are taunting. Like why when I turn off the light And shut the door and lay to rest, Only halfway through the dream The aching thud pounds my chest. Or why when I lay soft and peaceful, Free of worry, free of despair I snap back to what is tangible, And feel around; no one is there. I wish I could live forever Where I control my world, my mentality, But it is entirely it’s own poison: Dreams that satisfy more than reality. This temps the thought of never waking One pill too many is all it would take. I ponder the ceiling, the fear is taking Over what I have at stake. Like maybe on impulse, lost in wanting, A dream that that lives so vividly. In my head, taunting, taunting, That it will never exist permanently It is haunting that it can not be real Sleep’s constant threat will never shake. On this indulgence I cannot dwell, My head is spinning I’ll stay awake.