I know that I need to fall asleep but my body thinks it’s 1:00PM
After all, how could my body know otherwise It’s not like it’s
NIGHT TIME OUTSIDE and it’s not like I’m IN A PITCH-BLACK ROOM.
I wish my brain could tell my body that the day is over and
I wish that my
body clock would just sync up with my
alarm clock.
randomly accessing flashes of sentimental memory grasping desperately for a thought to latch on to trying to place the history of my life into a grand perspective in an attempt to explain why this insignificant dead instant when everyone near me is unconscious seems like the most significant lively moment, the culmination, intersection, combination of all contemplation, inspiration, and consciousness.
Why do we close our eyes
even when it is already dark?
As I close them now it feels as though
the spheres these lids are meant to cover
are screaming
to leave them uncovered.
My oculus is left in a paradox,
a superposition,
where neither open or shut satisfies.
Tears from the dried out surfaces
refuse to fall
and stick to my retina
engorging all that
I cannot see
in a salty pool
of frustration.
Flipping fabrics
Folding fabrics
Fighting fabrics
Feeling friction
Flustered fervor
Feigning fatigue
Fleshy
Fragile
Fester
And as the thoughts dissolve
As the brainwaves melt into dreams
As the body blurs into blankets
As the eyelids numb
As the breaths fall into line
As the nerves shut themselves off
As I escape this waking world
One final notion slips from the conscious mind
Like a train’s last call
Unlock the door,
Open the hatch,
Undo the binds,
Release your grip;
Let the ground crumble beneath you,
Relinquish control,
Fall from the sky,
and shatter the earth.