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Sleep Will Come Tomorrow

A poet's insomnia

By Abbey StreettPublished 3 years ago 1 min read
15
Sleep Will Come Tomorrow
Photo by Alexandra Gorn on Unsplash

12 a.m. I lay awake wishing only for dreams to come

when my eyes try to close, the words start to invade 

words into sentences, jumbled and dancing behind my eyelids 

1 a.m.The sentences are formed suddenly into full grown thoughts

they work themselves into a frenzy---my eyelids flutter open

2 a.m. They scroll across my vision 

my very own marquee in the dark

and though my eyes try to close again, their dance continues

3 a.m. They continue to form, now rhythmic and with meaning

until I am sitting up, I fumble for the light

4 a.m. Awake now I am typing 

my thoughts come to life just before the break of dawn 

my fingers swiftly, rhythmically keeping time to their beat 

5 a.m. The dreams never came, my wishes unheard 

in it’s place, a reality unfolded

stopping only when it lets me

And just as I say every night into the luminous light bathing my face

Sleep will come tomorrow

slam poetry
15

About the Creator

Abbey Streett

Life spoken through poetry.

Everything hurts

and nothing is free.

Currently a stay at home mama to two wonderful, crazy kiddos. Finding my voice through poetry, and desperately finding time to read and write.

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