Insomnia.

I hit the first wall about 4 am.
3 days and counting.
My eyes are watering.
After 4 days everything becomes distorted.
Shaky.
By then you can’t remember the last time you slept.
You may be sleeping now.
Not that it matters.
Reality, consciousness,
it’s all subjective, changeable. 
I can’t read anymore.
The words dance on the page.
Taunting me.
Tap dancing semantics. 
Sleep wont come
And I don’t mind
I’m being punished for something,
aren’t we all?
Believing in god,
not believing in god.
Drinking from the wrong side of the cup.
I don’t know
something stupid.
The nights are spent watching night time television
whose only rival for supreme crappiness
is daytime television.
TV’s on, TV’s always on.
So is the computer.
Tap taping better than I ever could.
Keyboards make the letters dance
mirroring the printed page.
Tap tap.
Awake for days,
blinds closed.
The only indication of changing days
is the downturn in TV programme quality,
as day segues into night.
The colours are fading .
Nothing feels safe now.
Caffeine pills to stave sleep away
Not today, not soon.
Another day, night, whatever
All I know is I’m awake
I’ll take something else please.
A spoken word delivery of something sacred.
A decree of secrecy,
A plague of thoughts.
Captured in that moment in time
when everything hurts.
When sleep comes it'll be on my terms.