Insomnia.

Empty beds

and bloated heads

stuffed with slutty thoughts

Spend sleepless nights

cursing sheep

with eyes that will not shut.

The heavier they are,

the higher I am.

The silence does not come.

It taunts and teases

and mocks and laughs

and fingers just catch wind.

Cycles and cycles

turn round and round

spinning thoughts of gold,

But dreams fall flat

and eyes open up

to find nothing left but straw.