Original Poem Title: “Mental Descriptor Pt. 2”

Poetry About Waking Up In The Middle Of The Night

Anxious, dehydrated, and full of thought.

It’s 4am on a Saturday morning.
I’m rudely spurned from sleep by dehydration,
and after quenching my thirst,
I am forced awake,
because… that’s what happens.

I drink water, and I wake up.

I’m 21 floors up in the air
and I am lost in thought about
digging my heels in a
concrete jungle
with unfavorable weather.

I don’t dream much.
Sleep to me is the equivalent
of willingly being knocked
unconscious for hours
only to wake up
gambling to feel okay afterward.

I think I must be dying.

A pain, sharp as a jolt, travels
like lightning in my nerves
and life, what I knew to be a marathon
has a finish line that I’m seeing
just way, way too early to be okay with.