insomnia

the darker night
is an itch that keeps me

AWAKE

thoughts are disjointed
half-burned paper fragments
floating free from
the fire-bombed remnants
of my mind;
black edged
and slowly disappearing
memories
haunt the wakeful walls
of my room,
empty of stars and a sky to hold them;
closed in and colourless on all sides
and sleep is only a fleeting dream
hanging just beyond sight
of my dry and crazy eyes

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