Sleep, Hear Me, Please Be With Me

The silence is lighter, though my eyes hang heavy. The 0 in front of the angry red numbers on my alarm clock taught me needlessly, I know I need sleep. But it dances from me with silent giggles, screaming for me to reopen my eyes when my tired muscles give in.

Thoughts swirl like a potion of anxiety and judgment, the crash is coming soon but first, the fidgeting keeps me wide awake for hours. These hours are more terrifying than the witching hours when the night is breaking apart like sharded glass right before my eyes as I beg for sleep; I pray for Mr. Sandman to visit me, even if he smacks me across the face to bring me sleep I would weep with happiness. My breaths are slowing as the sun gets closer and closer to the crust of land where my house is, sleep is approaching me as if he will finally embrace me, allowing me to finally rest.

Yet, I doubt he will embrace me, he is more fickle and jealous than a toddler whose mother took away his favorite toy. My eyes shutting and soft snoring steals away his toy.

I suppose a coffee will have to do.