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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Insomnia's not nice.

Submitted: July 08, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 08, 2012




A sweet peace so frequently desired,

wrapped up in spite of the cold.



No peace at the door

of your ever-waking mind.


No number of layers will stop

the piercing forces which lay siege to

Your soul.

Light bathes you;

Its purity a lethal weapon.

But it's better than the dark,

you suppose.


A whizzing sound, as cogs accelerate.

Unimaginable shapes surf your consciousness;

too big and too small.

Won't stop.

The frenzy begins.


Your personal Hell,

lying in wait between delusions.

Can't quite shake it off.

World peace,

yet you whip up a squall.

Every time.


Without warning,

the plug is pulled.

I watch you switch off, and wish

this were the last time.

It never is.


© Copyright 2020 Mathew Nicolson. All rights reserved.

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