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On a quest to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. I enjoy conversation with good friends over a glass of wine or a cup of coffee. If I could be anywhere on earth, I'd choose to be on the beach, in the moonlight, with my feet buried in sand up to my ankles.

Tuesday, March 15, 2016

Sleepless, yet not awake.
I quiet my thoughts, but they will return, 
and thankfully so, or the night would be longer still. What makes consciousness struggle so against its opposite? 
I long for the quiet nothingness of sleep. 
Get up and do something, the experts say.
I have no energy for that.
I lie here and worry instead.
What’s the long-term effect on my body and my mind?
Surely at some point the need to sleep will overcome the need for vigilance.
Where will I be when that happens?
Bleary-eyed I stumble through another day, both dreading and desiring the night.

3 comments:

  1. You have told the story of so many of us with this touching and honest poem. While reading it, I felt your angst and frustration. I applaud your willingness to tell your truth. And, thanks for your comment on my post!

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    Replies
    1. Claudia, thank you for your comment. I'm both encouraged and saddened that you can relate. Thanks for visiting,
      Cee

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  2. I also can relate to your words. Sleep has never been my friend, but in the last few years has really become difficult. love it...

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