Insomniac

In night I can’t sleep, in morning I can’t wake up, it is just like a thorn that’s half stuck in my skin, If I try getting it out, it hurts & it stays & hurts, pain has become a companion, this lack of sleep is affecting my every action, is it just a fluke or I am slowly becoming a new breed of Insomniacs.

I have seen people dozing off in public transport, people falling asleep in bus stops, railway stations & terminals but I of all people can’t have a few moments of sleep in my own bed. Is it something with be being not tired of whatever I do, the physical tiredness is there but what lacks depth is the tiredness in my sub conscious, it’s just like pangs of guilt, a twinge of my pain, a nudging inside that cranium seeking revenge for using that gray matter like a slave. I try everywhere possible but it is a disaster. 

Sometimes I turn to my cold marble of a floor to seek some solace from this wrath but the ice cold floor just aches my back & increases my distaste for it, someone told me bright bed sheets doesn't help in sleeping so dear wifey went ahead & bought some dark sheets to help me sleep but the sheets were as black as her heart as the charred figments of my relationship with my wife, she tries to sleep me off but she wants a good fucking session before that & while I marvel at her beautiful body as we both thrust down to alleys of lust & love, the pain strikes again, I come earlier than I did, I am more distracted than the street dog & I can’t love my wonderful yet bitchy wife like I used to.This insomnia has ruined my sex drive too. She says heavy meals will help, so I gulp down meat & carts of other meat, she feeds me like an animal in a slaughterhouse but all I do all night is run twice to the toilet & feel like a bloated fish, I workout like crazy hoping it makes me tired, it doesn't instead it bulges me out, of late I am looking more like a monster, my eyes have become sockets, when I look in the mirror I see crow’s feet dangling down them, they have turned blotchy.My eyes look at someone they try to recognize,the faint resemblances that echo deep in emotions trying to surge out,my once handsome face looks like a bombarded Buddha statue of Kandahar,like it has been tortured to make it not the way it was but to make it the way I wanted it to be.

Pain & frustration have became my bosom buddies but for all I know they try to carve their figurines on my entity. I become irritated easily,my short temperedness is increasingly getting shorter.My life’s been jumbled like a Cross word puzzle & the more I fiddle with it,the more complicated it becomes,I shout sometimes out of no necessity, this mediocre society has become more barbarian or so it seems, I've always loved barbarism,so true to our nature. I am as jaded & withered as a Igneous rock but I don't possess the strength or resilience it does. I lay on my bed,I close my eyes but I hear everything,its never distorted nor blurred,my eyes may be closed but they see everything,its like acid being poured down through the eye lids, I hear every whoosh of air & every shush of the fucking neighborhood, I am losing my grip on humanity, I try stabbing the pillow but it stands like a Minotaur hissing at me,its psychotic,all night I try curling up to the wife, bed sheets & the pillows but all they do is looking pitifully at me like I am an inmate at some asylum.Its bizarre,chaotic in the dead of the night,in the bitter silence I wake & howl like a Mad Wolf in the woods.12am,1am,2am,3am,4am & sometimes & I don't know when it comes I kind of go to sleep but these few hours I see the myriad of disparity among the vague & vibrant,reality kind of blurs away & I daydream in night in those few hours.

Smoking seems kind of solution to pass the time,so does alcohol.I stand at the balcony & drag on the smoke,it fills up my lungs & burns down my alveoli & makes me content with self destruction,sometimes self destruction seems like such a sweet gulp down the throat & it is indeed.Alcohol runs through my veins destroying my liver & my blood,after a few sips it feels like drinking my own blood but I let that feeling pass,not a vampire,not the least bit. Before the cruel bitch comes to me & closes my eyes, I see all kinds of things, things I want to see, things I don't & things I never imagined. I see myself as a tyrant, as a hero, as an oppressed soul & as a wanderer, I become nomadic & a cannibal, i go to the end of the world & come back in bits, flesh tethered to bone in worst possible way, like chewed by some animal with tooth & tongue with thorns,it is anarchy in paradise,like a needle being inserted into the eyelids in your consciousness,you feel it,the surge,the singe & the pain.In these mad moments of otherworldly suffering,my eyelids actually close & i don't know,I go to sleep may be,may be that's sleep or may be its insomnia again fucking me again in my eye.I've enjoyed the insomnia like I never knew the sleep.What happens after i fall asleep, I don't know.

Do You ?