Insomnolence

“ Please, let me sleep. Please!”

She whispered to the deaf clock and blind night.

But, the merciless needles of the clock

Refused to move an inch faster for her.

And the helpless night, married to time

Hid behind the white curtains of her bedroom window.

“Oh! How good it feels. To close your eyes

 And a moment of peaceful nothingness, sweet oblivion

Inexpensive morphine or amnesia ( the

Companions of sleep) to kiss you goodnight

How good it feels to bury your worries in your pillows

Set sail across the black ocean of night, in sleep's ship

How good it feels to escape your miserable life for once!”

She whispered to the mute walls.

For others, sleep is the rest

From the battles of their day.

For people like her, sleep is the battle itself

A battle against time, night, and herself.

Thus, every night

With the long blanket as her body armor

Pillow as her sword

Closed eyelids as the shield

Tossing and turning

She fought off her nightmares

In the battlefield of her bed.

1: 00 A.M.

The moment her heavy head hit the pillow

The cotton sinking under its weight

The silver screen of her mind

Began to play her most hated movie – her biopic

“ No. Please don’t”

 She clutched her bedsheets

The battle had begun.

‘ PART 1: THE PAST ' the screen read

The black alphabets on the rejection letter of her poem

The giggles of boys huddled together in the corner of the classroom

Pointing at the black ink marks across her face

The disappointed face of her best friend Maria,

Storming away from her after a pointless fight.

The bald patch on her head, bloomed that morning

As she ripped out a handful of hair clinging to the comb.

The loud scolding of her professor for late submission

“ Please let me sleep. Please" she begged.

2.00 A.M.

She woke up drenched in a cold sweat.

‘ I need sleep' she thought to herself

As she pulled up her bedsheets

And hugged her pillows

As if that could protect her.

‘ PART 2: THE FUTURE’ the screen blinked.

Will anyone read your poems? Is it even good?

Will you ever find love?

Will Maria forgive you for what happened today?

Are you that ugly that not one guy has ever asked you out?

Will, you ever make enough money to travel to Paris or will you be stuck 

Here is an unhappy wife to some asshole?

Can you even find a job?

Would the boys think that you are a freak after today?

“ Stop it, please. Please let me sleep" she begged again

3:00 A.M.

The battle wounds slowly

 Appearing on her fragile body

The blood-red eyes, shivering frame,

Throbbing head, teary eyes

Crescent-shaped indents on her palms

 And an aching heart.

Her mind had trapped her

 In an empty theatre

Playing a horror movie.

No matter how much she screamed

Or banged against the locked doors

It refused to let her out.

So she shut her eyes tight

As the ghosts of the night continued to haunt her.

4.00 A.M.

Maybe a movie might distract her.

Perhaps fatigue might do the trick.

Her red tired eyes fixated

On a beautiful couple on her illuminated phone screen.

A romance movie, to divert her away

From the wretched biopic

Playing in an endless loop

At the back of her head.

Where each scene was

A tale of deed undone,

Fear of tomorrow

And the guilt of today.

8.30 A.M

She washed away the blood from her eyes.

But the crescent-shaped black patches

Under her swollen eyes,

(smudged lipstick of nights’ kiss)

Remained untouched.

A battle scar!

“ WHERE THE FUCK WHERE YOU?

YOU ARE LATE AGAIN!

I TOLD YOU TO SLEEP EARLY!”

A slap from her mom.

Another battle scar.

She wished she could tell her the truth,

That her daughter is a depressed insomniac,

But her mother’s blue sleeping pills

Peeking through its shiny glass bottle

(A toxic genie waiting

For its owner to free it)

Stopped here.

She didn’t want her mother to blame herself

And lose her sleep.

She opted for silent suffering

Swallowing the white painkiller

She didn’t want her mother’s life.

12.00 P.M.

She dozed off peacefully

On a wooden desk

Listening to the lullaby

Of her professor’s droning

“ Please.. Don’t let me sleep"

She might have whispered.