Insomniac

Long hours staring at the ceiling, thoughts scattered, unappealing.
Words are seen but remain unread no matter how many times you peruse the manuscript.
What is thought, conciousness, alert, aware, waking, sleeping.
What are dreams?
Is there a such thing as a break from reality? The opportunity to truly delve into ones thoughts and invade your own personal space by seeing things in ways that excite and calm you all at once?

Shaded corners and shifting colors, movements that are unmoving as shapes dance through your mind and eyes, but not your room. Old friends are your enemies as the strangers creep through the darkness encroaching your faded vision.
There is no light, there is no hope, there is only nothing with which to see with and nothing for which to see. There is but darkness and memories to plague your every moment as you float in a semi-living trance.
You are not dead but you are not alive. What are you? Where are you? Not here, somewhere else while remaining in your head. Dreaming without dreaming. Resting without feeling rested.

A shadow of your former self, you drift emptily through places you once knew, and recognize nothing.
A shadow of your former self, you drift emptily by people you once knew, and recognize no one.
A shadow of your former self, you drift and breath, but you are not breathing the air your once did.
You are but a shadow of your former self, an empty shell which looks like you, but is not you.

Bitter regret, hateful remorse, absolute ecstasy, hope, love. these are things you no longer can recognize within your own carapace. It simply carries the emotion of emptiness. It simply is.

I simply am. You simply are. We simply continue to be.

So night light, night light, only thing awake tonight, I wish I may wish I might have a little dream tonight.
Kiss me softly, eyelids closed, and wish me fondly on my way.
Night light, night light, don't leave me awake tonight. Flicker...flicker...flicker...fade...now my night light sleeps...

But still I'm awake.