An Almost Sleepless Night

My room is as black as boredom.

Clock in the corner,

like the neighbour hammering nails.

Chest of drawers, telly on top,

looms like a robot.

Pounding on the pillow,

my head, flashes of thoughts:  

beeping at work,          

Psych notes I have learned,               

storylines in my make-believe world.      

Curled on the floor, Jhetty,

floppy ears and stubby legs

just snores away,

like a truck idling at an intersection.

I turn blindly to the wall

like a sleepwalker.

Rebekah Williams