Sleep is a time for the mind to rest. Why don’t you ever rest?
Sleep is a time for the mind to forget. Why don’t you ever forget?
The screen appears hazy as my vision goes in and out of focus. Words melt together as my fiingerss sliipaacross tthe keyyboard.
Every part of me wants me to be asleep: my right bicep and left quad threaten mutiny if I don’t let them sleep and rest away their soreness; my heart begs me to let it sleep and forget, if just for a night, all that has happened today.
Every part of me wants to be asleep, except for my mind. Of course, it hears the idle threats of mutiny, the pitiful begging. But my mind is a merciless tyrant. It forces my sore muscles to squirm in agony. It forces my heart to race through memories of pain and despair.
The self-torture is endless. It is cruel. It is senseless.
End it. Please, end it.
Llllleettttt mmeee ssslllleeeeepppppp
Will you ever let me sleep?