Insomnia

This was written on an insomniac night, when words were trying to make sense, and the night was just too gentle, I would say. It is probably one of my first poems in my searching-for-meaning-in-life phase.

Thoughts, mostly intriguing.

They occur only during the nights especially when there’s a connection within yourself that you embrace yet suppress.

Thoughts, mostly unapologetic.
You’re wide awake, thirsty, for water or for some peace? Or maybe both. You get up to get a glass of water. Your legs fall weak. You get back to staring at the still curtains.
Thoughts, mostly hindered.
There’s a familiar tune that sings to the rhythm of your heartbeat, but you’re wide awake thinking should I dance to that?
Thoughts, mostly dangerous.
What if I didn’t know how to dance?
What if there is no rhythm?
And that simple “what if” keeps you awake till the sun shines its bright rays on your face. Perhaps a little too bright.

Picture by Megan Te Boekhor (Unsplash)

 

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