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.”