Those Last Moments Before Sleep

Seconds before liftoff
the rest of the world falls silent
and accepts unconsciousness.

I
on the other hand
have my subconscious in an uproar.

Like a circuit breaker moments before disintegration.
Dreams, thoughts, wishes, and nightmares
woven simultaneously into a jumbled mix
of hope, fear, and longing.

The only solace left
other than my normal liquid salvation.
Why can’t I fall silent
with nothing to ponder, plan, or depict.

Why can’t I slip away
to the other world of ice cream castles and imagination.
Why do I find the need for unfathomable situations
and abilities never to be reached.
Storylines even the most coked-out writer wouldn’t create
just to bring me still and able to rest.

Maybe a night without thought might be my straw
breaking a chain of circular actions.
Completing the equation
Me = Me.

But that’s for the scientists to figure out.
Such a simple answer
still eludes me.

Any comments from the peanut gallery?
I didn’t think so.
Ever silent the truthful can be
even when confronted.
Not there place
I still try
to find mine.