Insomnia

when the body's eyes close

the mind's eye awakens

instead of counting sheep

I end up wondering where the shepherd is

cursing this wicked imagination

that refuses to give in to sleep's persuasion

out of the darkness Hindsight comes

wearing his usual bland grey suit

sitting high in his armchair perspective

judging me

tormenting me with memories past

decisions that I would give anything to take back

he's laughing

Hindsight is

since he knows that his vision is like a Timberlake album

yet mine is blind because my eyes are closed

and all I want to do is sleep

the memories continue and in a slim fitting dress

there comes Despair 

reaching out her hand for our usual dance

and so we waltz through the motions

she brings out my pains

whispering them seductively into my ears

her hopeless allure tempts me so

I want to just give in

give in and let go

engulfed in the horror of my own reality

ruminating on what it feels like to close one's eyes

and just sleep

the last to visit is Hope

but he only stays for a few moments

indescribably blissful moments

like those Sunday afternoons where you watch your two sons play

with your wife by your side and everything is okay

yet slowly the moment starts to fade away

replaced by flashing images of three graves

a bottle of Henny 

a car crushed under the weight of a tree

and as a guard walks by my cell

I ask him if he has any tips

on how to fall asleep.

Reviews

[Bonie]

Wow. Since I couldn't type just wow, I have to add this. I'm blessed because I can't suffer this.

[Clara Cook]

Great Poem, I like it, I too suffer from insomnia.