Prompt: Insomnia

Prompt: Insomnia

Like a mermaid supine, on the prow of a ship,
insomnia has me in her wooden grip.

Snakes climb the boney steps of my spine.
Alalia stitches my lips, but not my eyes.

I search for dreams. I search for Hypnos.
A cold breath crawls the stems of my collarbone.

A shadow looms in the dark, his stare unblinking.
A herald of my own insanity in the making.

The evil that lurks, this body-shaped phantom,
whether man or delusion, I cannot fathom.

My imagination, an infinite shuffling of cards
that weigh my nights, and limbs thick in tar.

Her thorny tendrils bind, drown me in my sheets.
Just another night cursed, without sleep’s release.

Written July, 2022.

This is July’s entry for The PoeTree House’s monthly contest. July’s prompt is “Insomnia.”

Will you always love me?

Will you always love me?
Will you always love me?

With cliff edges at my 
fingertips,
tigers at my heels, and
thunder
in my chest?

When ghosts cling to my back
while I flavor dinner
with my weeping?

When I come home hissing
like a glass-breaker?

When I’m sighing, 
sinking into sofa cushions,
and I have no strength
to pull off a smile,

so instead, I push?

Will you still think I’m strong?
Will you love me always?

Written May 20th, 2018.


A poem I wrote when I was grieving, and thinking of my significant other who had to live with me while grieving. Understandably, I was a depressed, anxious, weeping mess. It’s nothing fancy or full of any special techniques. Just feelings on a page.