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