Insomnia (3)

I am writhing inside
Twisting and stretching
Reaching for who I need to be
Lying awake for no reason
Flipping through channels in the middle of the night
Brushing away the cobwebs of fantastical dreams
I am climbing the walls
Chewing the plaster
Tasting the paper and glue compounds that surround our timelines
As they morph into white puffy clouds
Reflected in the river that ripples
Rampaging through my veins
For no apparent reason
Other than to frustrate me
It is all so clear to me now
Like a foggy morning in a sandstorm
Clear like a glass of old milk
Easily understood like an alien language
Or a tax return form
And so I bask in my confusion
Relish my headache that comes from my soul
Wrapped in this blanket of nothingness
If I stay up much longer
I'll be sharp in the morning
Sharp like the knife that thuds onto butter
Or like the arrows that bounce off unprotected flesh
My breathing is shallow yet rapid and my heart is quickly marching
Now I shall lay down my pen and attempt the descent into sleep once more
But why?
Only because my dreams are where I need to be