She sat awake in the midst of the night,
perched on the porch step.
Her life was nothing but a blur,
battling wariness and exhaustion.
Cigarette smoke trickled from the bud between her fingers as she stared at the stars.
They were portholes from heaven,
windows in which God peered down.
“Where’ve you been?"
She spoke to him,
her voice soft within the night.
She flicked ash to the ground.
“I’m so lost and you left me here, all alone."
Moonlight illuminated her burnt-red hair, pulled into the messiest of buns.
Her eyes were a fine brown,
bloodshot and sleepy,
infected with insomnia.
“Why’d you leave me?"
Her voice turned to a desperate whisper,
eyes filling with tears.
Another flick of the cigarette,
another gaze at the sky.
Unfortunately enough,
this is the insomniac’s life.