i am one with insomnia

I lay awake
listening to my husband’s
labored breathing,
his thoughts drifting away
leaving behind an empty mind
a peaceful mind.

I can hear
my dog’s nails
dancing on the wooden floors
as he chases cats
in his dreams,
unmoved by his sudden jerks,
drifting into a state
of incomplete stillness.

I can hear
my heart pumping blood,
I can feel
the throbbing ache
of restlessness
as it makes its way
through my entire body,
starting with the feet
— now numb with pain,
gliding across the sticky sheets
searching for a cold patch —
then making its way up
to my chest,
my throat,
my eyes.

eyes that refuse
to stand still,
to stay shut.
eyelids that won’t close properly.
eyelashes that dare to tickle.

I feel a sudden urge to glue my eyes shut.

I’m ready —
either the Sandman
or the Grim Reaper
is welcome to join
me in bed
and put an end
to this misery.

but neither show.

so I take
the comforter off
my sleeping husband’s body
and push him out of bed.

how great it feels
to have the entire bed
to myself
and still not sleep.