Light sleeper

If sleep is the moment of death
Then I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t immortal
I, lying dormant in my portal,
Hibernate but never find the time to make my subconscious happy
I neglect my circumstances
And make up nuanced stories
Flirt with moonlight dances
And resign myself to boredom
So much potential sleep
Like the moment after a run
Exalted from exhaustion
Ready for another one
I crave the steady rhythm
Crazy we are falling in love with ourselves we are spinning into oblivion
We never know
How we got there
I find solace in the moment of wakening
Rise not refreshed but submissive
A loner too
Keep private my deprivation
I wouldn’t call it wanting necessarily
But merely lacking what nourishes me
Nevertheless, the simplicity of nothingness eludes me
I paint sheep into gophers
And dig holes in the cerebral canvas, bury them by number
Counting 1, 2, 3…
I have
Crossed fences and county lines even
Dreamt of sleepwalking
And losing myself in the purgatory of a featureless night
Remembering things
Sometimes I find it hard to distinguish between dreams and reality
As if I had forgotten them since the night before
As if remembering could restore the light back to my psyche
But no, I am no such head case
Just a restless sleeper dabbling in psychoses
Wishing for a reason or a joke or a number to keep me going
Something that would explain my sleepless nights
Like the countless reasons to keep on living.