Even if the house is completely dark, all lights are off and the night sky is as dark as the thoughts caressing the back of your mind, you can hear. With the soft sounds in the enclosed area of your room, white noise becomes your sights. The dog, munching down on his nightly meal, echoing cracking noises through your skull.

As you toss and turn, bare skin sliding along rough sheets you see what others don’t. With the absence of sight, the imagination takes ahold of the senses left to utilize. All mass leaves your body and you are left to visualize a skeleton. Every movement requires full effort, your muscles are sore and exhausted. Why are you sore and exhausted when you do nothing all day? Why don’t you live like normal?

Your breathing sounds like the final breaths of a gunshot victim trying to cling onto their last bit of life. You wouldn’t try to stay would you? Images of the final moments prior to bliss are far fetched but you feel it in the deepest part of your trembling chest. Every deep breath leaves you emptier than before.

Like the raindrops abandoned on the roof of a house, slowly making their way down to the pavement below, tears fall from your eyes and land on your solid pillow with a light sound of impact. When you roll onto your side, you can feel your dampened hair crunch beneath your ear pressed against the wrinkled pillowcase.The clicks from behind your eyes every time you blink ricochet throughout the walls of your head.

Your head hurts. The pressure from holding in your sobs pounds from the inside of your forehead. Thoughts squirm around through your brain matter like a million newborn snakes in soft mud. Not being able to turn off the thinking is where the real suffering comes from isn’t it? The way your mind constantly runs, leaving your ability to think critically out of breath is exhilarating to the sadness that consumes you. How does it feel to be an insomniac?


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