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Battle for Unconsciousness

Piercing silence fills the house,
it’s 11pm,
and I can’t sleep.

I scramble around,
awkwardly, twisting and turning.
My bed pulls me in
like a powerful tornado.


The feeling of
makes it harder to leave.
I’ll continue my battle
laying here.

My mind shoots through the days events
like a racecar, trying to win the Piston Cup.
school studies,
gossiping girls,
family feuds,
struggles against myself.

Bearing yellow street lights
shine through my white window.
The once jet black surroundings
turn into a charcoal gray scene.

My open eyes
creep into a squint,

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ashbash This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Nov. 27, 2010 at 1:28 pm
i really like this poem-- five stars!!
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