Nightmare Before Sleep

fuzzy fans faze in and out, waves on the stream of my thoughts
cool sheets rustle across legs turned, dragging the rest of my body to the
right, left,
lengthen spine
slower breath for less air to power
imaginings,
stories,
to do lists,
paranoia
of foreign sounds in the dark.
sweat clams
red flickers are four
eyes closed mind seeing.
flames are five thirty
turn 2 3 4 5 6 7 8,
position and turn 2 3 4
coals are eight.
a sting on my lips, tangy frustration rolling.
tensing with exhaustion.
exercise to relax.
the pillow sinks under the headache, pull pull pull me down, brick brick mortar brick my
stream of thoughts from
cohesion.

red lights burn ten; I've slept.

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My sleep schedule has been so off this summer, and a night with my girls this weekend completely threw me off any semblance of order my body had before. Lack of sleep truly frustrates me, thus the tears in the poem and on my pillow. If I don't sleep right than I don't function at my best, and fighting against my own body is one of the worst fights I have. I didn't sleep more than two hours last night, I hope tonight is better.