a cork board


Day 9/Poem 9 – NaPoWriMo
PMpWed, 11 Apr 2012 23:39:17 +000039Wednesday 1, 2010, 11:39 pm
Filed under: poems, the mirror | Tags: , ,

Sleep, My Dear Friend

 

Sleep has always

come to me with ease.

I have always been able to

close by eyes and

put an end to the day

whenever I needed to.

 

Like an orange sun

succumbing to

the tidal waters

of the ocean.

 

There are very seldom

instances where I

find myself restless.

Where sleep eludes me

the way the enslaved

long to taste freedom.

 

What awakens me,

those things that leave me

stationary and laying on my pillow

are always one of two things.

My mind wandering,

or my heart longing.

 

Like that time she was

gone for 3months.

I avoided my mattress

like it was a torture chamber,

often waking up twisted and

aching on the living room sofa.

Not having slept nearly enough.

 

I would avoid

my house all together.

Asking the last remaining

stragglers at poetry slams

what they were up to.

I don’t wanna go home,

my house is too empty,

I would say.

 

So I would find myself

in Chinatown at 1am.

Jaywalking the city at 2am.

Driving to the lake at 3am

to stare at the water until 4am.

Anything to avoid those sleepless nights.

Those sleepless walls. Sleepless.

 

When my mind wanders

I’m nervous in anticipation.

I will stare at the ceiling

making constellation paintings

with the spackle on the ceiling.

 

It is on nights that

preceded or tail-ended

a potentially life-changing event.

I would turn from side to side

picking apart the pieces

of what was to come

or what had passed.

 

Like the time I knew

I was picking her up

from the airport the next day

after not having seen her

for 3months, but years earlier.

 

I would go to Wal-Mart

and play Playstation 2 on

the demo machine to pass time.

Just so I could avoid

that sleepless sofa bed.

Sleepless kitchen.

Sleepless.

 

Sleep has always

come to me with ease.

I have always been able to

close by eyes and

put an end to the day

whenever I needed to.

 

Like an orange sun

succumbing to

the tidal waters

of the ocean.

 

Sleepless is not

something I see often.

But I know it like

a little brother knows

the mannerisms of his big brother.

 

So when I do find myself sleepless,

I feel like nothing ever changed.

Been there, done that.

I’d rather be dreaming,

but I wake myself

into a sleepless, dream-like state

in exchange for the real thing.

 

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