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Description
Crept low, around rotten woodwork, through
dead leaves going "crunch" under my foot
steps and into the open canvas of the
world, this blissful coliseum, and in
the middle, a divan with Sleep lounging
away my terrors, resting his heavy
head before setting out to do me in again
repeating an insane nightly ritual of

closing my eyelids tight despite constant
fights and hours elapsing to make me
this lump of unproductive matter doing
the least of nothing for extended
periods of wasted time. It would
end this afternoon, I swore

raising my blade high, catching a
reflective light from the sunlight coasting
through exposed non-existent roof,
down and down fast to cut
the wind apart, hearing that loud
"swoosh" sound before inserting
itself deep into Sleep's neck,
rolling around off it's divan, onto the
cold ground; it made not a peep as
it's curse slowly left my body.

***

Day seventy-four and I barely
remember what sleep is, though my
body parts, major, refuse to function;
being dormant doesn't suffice enough
to give energy to this sleep-less
entity. Such a waste of time, I before
quipped on this act of sleeping,
thus setting out to do my saving
act of regrettably killing off Sleep,
now to laze around the long days and
nights too exhausted to do anything
and unable to ever retrieve the energy
sleep once before granted.