Sonnet #6 (Insomnia)

I toss about like flotsam on the sea and flail my arms like first-alighted birds a lone tear of frustration escapes me, runs down my cheek. I taste internal words. I turn to face the wall and count the lines as some count sheep, to lethargy induce. I sip on herbal tea, a glass of wine, i read a book of remedies profuse, assume the pose of children in the womb. Closer to my objective I draw not. Incline, supine, new temperature of room has no effect, so I accept my lot: Despite what I ingest, contort, or weep, without you near, I cannot fall sleep.

You know youre awesome right? I mean, the poetry is good, but im just sayin, you needed to know. I Like the tightness!!