Insomnia
Twisting,
tossing, turning,
Side
to side, over and over
Restless
limbs chasing round the bed
Fighting
to find perfect position
Moving,
itching, fidgeting
Exhausted
and desperate to fall
Into
the deep abyss
Where
nothingness starts
And
the conscious goes amiss
Too
cold, then sticking-hot
No
ticking-tock of the clock
But
hours crawling by, moments only creeping
As
if Time might have stopped
Sharp,
red digits standing still
How
slowly they change, from one to another
But
remain implacable, accusing
The
mind wanders where it will
Chasing
off down rabbit-holes
Following
tunnels and corridors
Leading
nowhere
Floating,
wandering
Falling
slowly past cliff-faces rocky and steep
Never
quite reaching
Never
getting there
Never
hitting bottom
Night-time
has a density
An
unchanging, unyielding quality
Never
ending, giving nothing in return
Silent,
dark, impenetrably deep
Eyes
and body both yearn and ache
Pursuing
elusive snatches of sleep
The
brain rattles on chuntering, chattering
An
ever-running engine ticking over, never stalling
Too
busy, too many things to do
Names
to remember, tasks not to forget
Slowing
down finally, it seems
To
a new steady rhythm, a gentle quiet
Regular
heartbeat, softer breathing
Heading
at last toward dreams
Then
suddenly racing and speeding again
Around
the next corner, solving another puzzle
Remembering
names, thinking about tomorrow
Tired,
so desperately tired
Another
tangle of blankets and sheets
Fighting
the covers, thrashing around
Gasping
and grasping for rest
Snatching
at hope after hope
That
somehow the torment will end
Then,
quite suddenly, an alarm ringing
New
light piercing, a Dawn Chorus of singing
Night,
it seems, has stolen away
And
bedraggled, be-drowsled
Not
calm, not even rested
Head
still aching and throbbing
It’s
time to start the next day
Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2018
No comments:
Post a Comment