Phases of illumination
There’s a bittersweet sting in the way insomnia convinces the heavy night air to come between each of my, even heavier, eyelids.
It’s as if monsters of the night grip my makeup smeared lash lines and forcefully wide eye a girl with tired, kaleidoscope eyes. I lay deathly still as slumberous sensations flow through me just as a west coast wave rolls onto shore, saturating the sand.
Exhaustion seeps in to my soul.
The nagging fatigue begs me to end this days cycle of normalcy but this sinister mind of mine mockingly sneers, for it knows the moon feeds my monsters and would not allow a conventional comatose state.
I lay deathly still, while those creepy creatures conga with my irrational thoughts, weaving through my denied depression and racing with the very same anxieties that usually chase me come morning.
Moonlight changes everything.
Phases of the sky’s illumination come and go as I lay deathly still, still.
I whisper peacefully in my chaotic brain, ‘you, my love, are much like the moon and this too is only a phase…’