Entwined in Twine

I can’t sleep and it’s all your fault.

1.

They came back you know,
tried to prescribe me some “sedative-hypnotic”;
which just made every second like
acupuncture with rusted needles.

My brain beat out the narcotic;
renamed it “seductive-hypnosis”.

Now, I rely on these oval sleepy-candies
to get me through the day,
and insomnia channeled through
static to muddle me on past the night.

2.

Worn and tethered;
torn and weathered.

The urge to drive –
not tonight,
no, not tonight.

I miss falling asleep in the morning,
I miss waking up.

Curl up and shiver with me,
like me;
die a little more with each breath
too.

I haven’t slept in months
and it’s all your fault.