Eyes close. There is nothing to see. The room is dark, the ceiling above
the same shade it was last time you looked.
How long ago?
Five minutes? Jesus, please let it be
five minutes.
A glance at the clock. Not five. Three. Why not
two more?

Eyes close. Where is the off switch for my mind? How can I stop
these dreams, these images? Why must they
choose now to come?
five minutes? Jesus, please let it be
five minutes.
A glance at the clock. Not five. Two, this time.
What happened to five?

Eyes close. There is nothing to see. The room is dark, the ceiling above
the same shade it was last time you looked.
A blink?
All I get this time is a fucking blink?
Not five minutes. Not two.
Don’t glance at the clock. It won’t be good. Won’t be…
What happened to two?

Dry eyes. They won’t even blink now. There is no respite from
the constant, meager light. The ceiling above the
same shade as the last time I looked.
Five minutes, two minutes, a blink?
No. Not a goddamn thing.
I might as well get up, since I’m sleepless.
What else should I do?