soma

nights like 
that, when 
the line
between awake
and sleep 
never breaks,
the comfort
of comforters
can’t take
me across 
the curt
eternity of 
blurred reality. 
before dawn
stares back
at me
i hold my
third coffee
and stir
in the disturbed 
slurry of a
morning that
will only
follow 
restlessly.
nights like
that upend
the senses
leaving me
defenceless
against a
day without
an end.