Insomniac

I tried counting sheep but they never showed up

And the gut-wrenching guilt in the pit of my stomach

Growled like a wolf in their clothing.

The aches and moans of this house and my bones

Were a metronome keeping me in line,

Reminding me I didn’t deserve to sleep.

I didn’t deserve to dream.

But when you told me you wanted to stay over,

I found myself lost in your pillow-shaped eyes

Drifting

Falling

And waking up.