Not Quite Sleep
midnight cracks its knuckles
and you ready yourself
for this next beating.
nights that keep you up
with bone-cracking assaults
are beginning to get the best of you.
your battle scars are piling up
like old dusty pages in a bookstore
everyone's forgotten about.
in the morning you'll watch the sun rise
with freshly painted black eyes
swollen from midnight's raining punches.
it's not charming like in the movies,
the backwardsly lovable insomniac
with a million problems and some great intrigue.
no, when you don't sleep,
the world jumps out from under you
in quick flames and ocean tides.
your mind is dancing in the fire
that cracks and bends in black air
then washes away and leaves you freezing.
then the shelves of your mind crumble
into a pile of broken wooden bones
and you settle into a silence that's not quite sleep.
Chelsea Lothrop: "I am a nineteen-year-old student hopelessly devoted to poetry and prose, mystified by words and the power of their arrangements. I use writing to expel my inner demons and share my inner joys with the world. I'm just a small fish in a very, very big pond but I am hoping to make some sort of name for myself, even if only to reach one person with my words."