‘Please stop,’ I plead,
‘stop talking, I’ll hear you in the morning’,
but it won’t shut up
it is restless
it has questions,
like a little six year old girl,
or answers, like a sixty year old philosopher
I want to hear neither
I want to sleep
Does cold coffee have a lot of caffeine in it? I am wondering.
Shut up. The voice. Shut up.
I twist, I turn.
I try locating a more comfortable posture on a very comfortable bed,
my God, the bed is too cold
my God, the blanket is too hot
One leg on another is too heavy
may be the air conditioning is uneven
I want to sleep, I want to sleep.
Hours are slipping by.
does it matter?
night is slipping by
does it matter?
somewhere people are dying.
Does it matter?
‘nothing matters’, the voice drops in coolly
if nothing really matters, why does small stuff trip us so much?
I’m wide awake having given up,
I ask the voice
now, the voice sleeps somewhere inside my fucking head.