Insomniac

--All I can seem to do is live in a deathly fashion; I lie on my back, in a dark cold room, alone, with no one to comfort me, for no one else is in my current state. My mind draws blank, for I can't continue to think, for thinking is the enemy of one such as myself, at this time of day rather.

My dark night soon turns to morning, and morning to light, but not quite day. I close my eyes to create the darkness again, for the darkness was my only security, for as long as it was dark, I still had a chance for a tranquil slumber.

"To bed by 7, maybe I'll be up by 9", I sigh to myself, now realizing how long of a day is ahead of me. Too many hours in a day, but no so many in the night. Its never enough, for I am never able. I'm the insomniac.