Sleepless Nights and Burning Fires

I find myself awake at this hour.

I can’t sleep.

Monsters crawl across the floor.

Shadows haunt the edges of my vision.

Demons hang from the ceiling.

I close my eyes and try to breathe.

But the air is infected.

Oxygen laced with invisible smoke from burning fires fills my lungs.

This is ‘home’.

The fire scars my skin.

But there’s nothing I can do.

Tears extinguish the last embers of a dying flame.

Nothing will remain.

And I know because I’ve tried.

I’ve tried to latch and hold onto.

The fire is warm and welcoming.

I let it have it’s way.

But the fire eats up everything.

Smoke fills the house and I can barely breathe.

Now the fire is gone.

The last embers die out.

And I rebuild my house out of plywood.

And wait for lightning to strike.

Lying awake I find no peace.

But sleeping is even worse.

I close my eyes and I can’t breathe.

Demons dangle and feed me with infected thoughts.

Shadows haunt the forefront of my mind.

Monsters wait at the foot of my bed.

I lay awake.

I find myself begging to sleep at this hour.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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