Sedated Somniac
She lost track time she didn’t know whether it was early in the morning or late at night. She couldn’t stop tossing and turning when finally she gave up the fight.
She laid there immovable, staring at her ceiling fan go round and round dreaming of a sleep that’s so peaceful and profound.
She had no mirrors in her room, she hated her reflection with saggy bags under her eyes. She looked so pale and tired, from a hundred sleepless nights.
This all started when she was five, a night her mind still denied.
She walked to her mothers room only to find that she had committed suicide.
Ever since then she had nightmares that kept her from sleep, she tried everything nothing worked, not even counting sheep.
She didn’t want to get up, fearing that if she did, she would miss out on the slumber that would arrive because she if she didn’t get any sleep she wouldn’t survive.
Who was she kidding she knew she wasn’t going to get any sleep she walked over to her window sill to sit and weep.
She wondered if anyone else felt her pain, the sleepless nights slowly driving her insane.
She had hoped to see a light shine through some ones window, letting her feel not so alone, but through the darkness of the street the only light on was her own.
She knew in her heart she was being punished for not saving her mom.
These thoughts raced through her mind and showed no signs of starting to calm.
Her therapist diagnosed her with chronic insomnia and prescribed her hypnotics to help her sleep, she popped one in her mouth so upon her slumber would slowly creep.
She patiently waited for her whole body to be sedated.
She knew she would wake up with an insomnia induced hangover, a feeling that she dreaded. Double visioned, grouchy, groggy and light headed.
She would never be able to escape, this constant disease of being awake.
She’ll never be anything more than a sedated somniac.
She laid there immovable, staring at her ceiling fan go round and round dreaming of a sleep that’s so peaceful and profound.
She had no mirrors in her room, she hated her reflection with saggy bags under her eyes. She looked so pale and tired, from a hundred sleepless nights.
This all started when she was five, a night her mind still denied.
She walked to her mothers room only to find that she had committed suicide.
Ever since then she had nightmares that kept her from sleep, she tried everything nothing worked, not even counting sheep.
She didn’t want to get up, fearing that if she did, she would miss out on the slumber that would arrive because she if she didn’t get any sleep she wouldn’t survive.
Who was she kidding she knew she wasn’t going to get any sleep she walked over to her window sill to sit and weep.
She wondered if anyone else felt her pain, the sleepless nights slowly driving her insane.
She had hoped to see a light shine through some ones window, letting her feel not so alone, but through the darkness of the street the only light on was her own.
She knew in her heart she was being punished for not saving her mom.
These thoughts raced through her mind and showed no signs of starting to calm.
Her therapist diagnosed her with chronic insomnia and prescribed her hypnotics to help her sleep, she popped one in her mouth so upon her slumber would slowly creep.
She patiently waited for her whole body to be sedated.
She knew she would wake up with an insomnia induced hangover, a feeling that she dreaded. Double visioned, grouchy, groggy and light headed.
She would never be able to escape, this constant disease of being awake.
She’ll never be anything more than a sedated somniac.