The night is for sleeping.

All the world is at peace

but I channel surf till my fingers burn

and my head swims with images

that are not my own.

I close my heavy lids,

but my mind speaks nonstop –

buzzing like an angry saw – back and forth –

filtering my time to dream and rejuvenate

with dread and exhaustion.

I walk to the window and listen to the darkness.

Everything is silent and safe out there.

But in here, I succumb to noisy ghost thoughts

that cause me to curl into a ball and pray

for sleep to come.  My leg twitches and I think:
“I’m falling asleep,” but then my eyes widen

like tulip bulbs bursting forth.

But somehow, just when I have given up all hope,

I stop hearing or seeing or thinking.