Awake at 3 AM

 

Awake at 3 AM

Awake at 3 AM and the clock
flashes the time to my conscience.
Toss and turn on the uneven bed
fix the covers, sheets and pillows
listen to the grinding of your neck
in blue midnite impatience
there is no grace in insomnia
only deadpan fatigue, a soul
leaking slowly from the corners of your eyes
I bounce my leg, for lack of a tail,
think happy thoughts, deepen
my breathing, pray for peace of mind,
for once, for a good night’s sleep
and find that this doesn’t work either.
The dog barking and that asshole
slams his car door again,
the furnace kicks in fits and blows air in,
the ticking clock is a pounding drum and
my neck is sore from the pillows.
I bury my thoughts in a basket of
dirty laundry, the room is a mess
and my life is no better
the light in the other room is still on
and the tape in my mind replays over and
over
and the time ticks by again at 3:30 AM.
I’m waiting for the music to begin
for the song sung by valkyrin and
choirs of angels, a heavenly lullaby
a kiss on the eyelids and softly tucked in.

 

© 2008 Anthony Sell

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