1:58 am
I am choking on my own panic
There are four hours left for me to sleep
I am wasting them
crying
because
somehow the universe is as big
as I once believed my backyard was and
one day I’ll wake up twenty seven and
who will I be?

2:23 am
I have twisted all the sheets
and kicked the dog out of my room
but now I wish he was here
because I think he kept me sane
each time
I feel I’ve sunk into beloved darkness
I can’t breathe
like my body doesn’t trust itself
and sleep is another way to die
I throw myself out of bed
pace to outrun the clock

3:11 am
I clench and grind my teeth
I feel morning in my bones
they want to wake up
I force myself back down
like it’s an operating table
and someone just needs to splice the right vein
I imagine the ocean
they say it’s how you relax but
they don’t know the ocean is inside of me
the waves
are crashing against the walls of my stomach
I am seasick
saltwater
is streaming out of my eyes
I want rescue
I want someone to offer me
a hand clutching a prescription
to tell me what type of crazy I am
and then help me fix it
so the words good-night
don’t sound like a death sentence
I can’t let the fear of the night
burn like bile in my throat
anymore
I can’t keep emptying myself
When I feel too full to sleep.