Restless
It’s 2:46am and my eyelids
are stapled
to my forehead.
No dream dust or droopy shoulders
or drool dripping down
my chin,
just ‘comedians unleashed’
looping on the tv
and an odd buzzing
I’ve been tracking with my ears
for the last 47 minutes—
that doesn’t seem to exist
when the sun is up.
Just me and this ungodly
bright screen
praying to be forcefully
slammed shut
as I roll to the farthest edge
of my bed hoping
to knock my plug
from its socket.
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“my eyelids/are stapled/to my forehead” – what an image!