Sleepless

You wake to the ache beneath your eyelids
you open your eyes, only to close them again—sleepless
though you slept.

You dreamt a dream long and terrified
inconsolable, it rocks
to and fro in its corner
its cries, deafening
your useless comforts,
your useless help.

You live the life of the day unrealized
burdened with the bags beneath your eyes
Sisyphus’ world on your shoulders
backwards and forwards
backwards and forwards
the nodding heads on your commute.

And after, you pace the coming night out of habit
and the sinking want of just something more
you close your eyes, only to open them again—restless
as always.
At last, you drift
to the sound of static:
panic and uncertainty.