inky sky, like a blanket hanging above me, suffocating me. wet pavement, and the reflections are making it look like there are white fireworks under my feet. orange streetlights, illuminating a part of the black night, scaring some of the darkness away. not really.
me, dragging my battered shoes along the floor, listening to the sound of waves folding over each other on the shore. wet sand glistening under the pale moon. it's a blank face, staring at me. I stare back at it.
I stay away from the beach, instead walking silently on the empty walkway parallel to the churning water.
no one's here. it's late.
this is too much. I stop and let my legs give out, and I tumble to the damp ground. I don't blink when my head connects with the tarmac. I don't blink much these days.
I let thoughts wash over me, buzzing and spinning and never-ending. like the night. my nights are endless. your nights pass, your seasons rush by in flying colours, the hands on your watch rotating at dizzying speed. but my clock stands still. I stand still, unblinking. I wait for the exhaustion to come, for my eyes to slide shut, silencing my mind and bringing rest while I wait for morning. I wait.
I wait.
I'm waiting now.
the sky lightens.
YOU ARE READING
insomniac
Randomtick tock the hours tick by, my mind ticks along with it and sleep still won't come.
