I was tired, once.
It escapes me.
Eyes stinging, head swimming, I rise from a bed of wood.
A fallen pillow-case slides beneath my feet. Three bottles and an empty glass hide a clock that reads four.
I was tired once.
But that was hours ago.
I was tired, but now when I lay down my head my mind awakes.
Remember the time you tripped during the school play? It says. See how your bank account has no money and many bills. What will you do?
It reminds me of my shrinking world.
I drink water from a tap, bending my neck to reach it.
Returning to bed two choices await:
Listen to my treacherous brain
Or drown it out.
The laptop light hurts my eyes and moisture builds.
The headache returns.
My brain’s rebellion. It doesn’t like the screen. It wants to be alone with my fears.
Instead it has TV. Flickering light and the voices of strangers for company.
It’s better not to be alone when the dark is provoked.
Behind empty glasses the clock still ticks.
Too late now to sleep.
I stare mindlessly at the screen until my doubts give up.
I was tired