This Clay Myrrh

The knife went clean
through my skull

and just enough
to puncture my pillow

case about a quarter
of an inch

or so:

the routine
existential crisis
before nightmares –

always on cue.

I became so wide-awake
in a moment of self-induced
fear and paranoia

it was embarrassing.

The next four hours
were something of
a nocturnal sunrise;

Dvorak had some idea
but was still far off,

withdrawing all the things
that withdraw me from sleep
including this.