Hurts in a way that isn't quite painful enough to convince myself it's real
A phantom ache that exists only on the plain of my mind
Thoughts so quick and fleeting, so irritatingly fast that I can not feel
They are neither emotion nor ideas, not malevolent nor kind 

And I'm tired, so very tired and in need of the forgotten peaceful space
The unknown, space between consciousness and the end
In which I can dream of things, memories I don't have to chase
Where all is wiped by the dawns rays that the sun reliability sends.

Sleep. Sleep. Sleep.

Before the alarms beep.

I wait with the clocks obnoxious tick and the all encompassing silence
That slots between every move of the hand I watch in the dark
And let myself wander into the rare angry thoughts of violence
My fist into the face of that clock, that in reality I wouldn't mark.

I see the sky change shade
Though eyes that should be shut
This choice has been made.
No rest tonight! No luck.

Aware of every fold and spring on my bed, suffocated in complexity
I wish for strength I can't quite have... and yet... and yet:
I want to overcome this pointless anxiety
Thinking that this too I'll probably forget.

Please: sleep, sleep sleep!

....

Beep. Beep. Beep.