A.M.

A poem about insomnia

 

1 a.m.
Tick
Tock
The clock is digital.
It is in my head.

2 a.m.
I toss
I turn
The bed is cement.
Or so it seems.

3 a.m.
Sigh
Groan
I can’t clear my head.
Will this ever end?

4 a.m.
Tossing
Turning
This time it’s not me.
He’s shaking the whole bed.

5 a.m.
Tick
Tock
There’s that fricking clock.
It beats against my brain.

6 a.m.
Yank
Tug
Now I’m pretty cold.
He stole my covers again.

That’s it, I give up.
I’m raising the white flag.
Insomnia you win.
I’m getting out of bed.