Haiku Insomnia

Insomnia,
you leave me
tired
behind my eyes.





Since I went through chemotherapy, 4 years, 7 months ago, Insomnia has been an unwelcome monthly guest in my bed. She normally arrives between 1:14 - 2:47 am.

While she visits, she talks incessantly and quietly, in my head. As much as I toss, turn, or thrash, she remains comfortably nestled between the passages of my mind, filling me with poetry, conversation, nightmare visions, beauty, questions, answers, everything but sleep.

Eventually she convinces me sleep is simply a verb, and I accept by putting my feet on the ground and getting out of bed, wondering if she will stay another day or two, or disappear until next month.