Melatonin or Cabernet

Shrieking volume from the twelve inch

Endless commercial interruptions

Pets insisting on fresh air

As agitations stir

Already bewildered with stress

Magnified by insecurities and unfamiliarity

Can’t read, can’t sit, can’t stand to talk about it

There will be no sleep tonight

Huddling unstill on cold steel porch chairs

Contemplating, dreading, assuming

The next day’s friendly confrontation

Towards an unforeseeable future

So many people have so much power

Over my life

So many laws govern the edges

Of my insomnia

Often times the only savior

Is a sip of red

Or three grams of white

Half an hour in front of the alphabet

Fragmenting emotions into sentences

Takes the edge off the edge

And clears the cot

The day winds up like a turbine for sixteen hours

How can we expect it to crash so quickly?

Yet the covers beckon and the eyes cloud

The chemicals have won

Learn more about Alex Hutchinson at:

www.SuburbanFiction.com