Insomniac
by Brianna Coleman
The clock ticks a taunting melody
reminding me the hour is dead.
Dim light casts irregular shadows
like ghouls prowling.
Thoughts swirl like murky water,
muddled with uncertainty.
Images of everything I cannot have
flood my mind.
Your face haunts me.
I wish I would succumb to sleep.
Last Updated: 4/8/13