The lack of good sleep wears on
And my mind is drawn
And so I am waiting on

When will I lose all control
And pay the owed toll
And give up body and soul
For this crazy role?

Nights and days blur together
And untogether
And I have lost the tether
Against the weather.

Perhaps I won’t realize
And I’ll miss the spies
And I’ll be blind to the skies
That actualize?

Time will tell the truth of it
And see when I split
And how I rage and submit
While I throw my fit.

The lack of good sleep wears on
And my mind is gone
And my thoughts are now full on

then again, maybe not

I should be sleeping,
Well, that was true when I wrote this, but not now that it is published.
Then again, perhaps I should be sleeping now too.
At some point, I really should sleep.
Maybe tomorrow.

It would be grand to be dreaming,
Of the mountains or the past or the future or anything with my eyes closed.
Then again, I should be careful what I wish for.
At some point, the nightmares might creep,
To my sorrow.

I should be sleeping,
But instead I’m scheduling additional posts for this week to be shared.
Then again, words are often my salvation.
At some point, I might hit upon a truth seep.
Maybe tomorrow.


I’m losing my mind.
It may already be gone:
The gears halted in their grind,
All thoughts swallowed in an endless yawn…

Have you seen them?
Those flashes of movement…
There, so clear, then vanished in the dim,
Were they real or, sanity slipping, imagination sent?

I’m caught off-guard,
By these fleeting glimpses,
Of possibilities crashing hard,
Into my truths of castaway chances.

Would you accept them?
Having seen them over and over,
As they race through vision’s outer rim…
The hallucinations demand your embrace, your favor.

I’m not quite ready,
In my paranoid wandering,
Even if my keel seems strong and steady,
To relinquish control to the wind’s meandering.

Can you see my crazy?
Careful, it crawls under skin…
Contagious, spreading, it very well may be,
Preying on your fears, your doubts, and your sin.

I’m sure insomnia is the culprit:
Attacking and degrading my wiring.
Yet these things I’ve seen hold weight and grit.
They cannot be unseen, no matter the time or trying.

What would you do?
Should you constantly see,
Objects, light, movement, flashes all untrue…
Existing in sight, but only there and completely reality free.


I finished off my visit with The SisterWives this week with a poetic duet with the one and only Hasty. It’s a follow up to the Insomnia post from yesterday and it is, in my opinion, one of the best poetic endeavors I’ve been a part of. Pop on over and give it a read.

The SisterWives

This week the Sisterwives were honored to have Matticus guest post twice.  The first post was about the perception of cowardice and the second was about insomnia.  Today I have an extra surprise for the SisterWives community; a poetic duet titled Insomnia written by Matticus and I.

399px-Face_of_an_old_clockWritten by Matticus and Hastywords

Tip-toeing through mind’s shadows,

Desperate to avoid the dangling drop,

And tightening noose of the gallows:

The dark memories that refuse to stop.


Thoughts, like ants, cover every surface

The walls and ceilings alive with rumors

A bizarrely unorganized mental circus

Insomnia, playing its endless maneuvers


To toss and battle or turn and retreat,

There is too much chaotic crawling to ignore,

Even flight would require a rising beat,

Indecisiveness furthers the internal war.


Yesterday visits needlessly unresolved

Twisting the debris inside my mind

Into this raging storm, anxiety evolved

Now hastier than the tick…

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I visited The SisterWives again today to share … well, I’m not really sure how to describe it. It was inspired by memories of when I struggled with Insomnia a few years ago. Step on over, give it a read, and share your thoughts.

The SisterWives

I am what you would call empathetic. I will read, discuss, or overhear something that will invariably cycle itself over and over inside my brain as I am trying to find sleep.  Most nights my mind is a steady stream of notions that pace themselves with my husbands quiet snoring.  So, it is no surprise, that I was able to empathize with the submission we received below from Matticus.  For some people the night is a time for rest, rejuvenation, and a time for emotions to re-calibrate; but for others it is a time of anxiety and dread.  Do you have trouble with insomnia?

After more than half a year of sleepless nights I found, for me, it was a major contributor to my depression.  Learning to turn my empathy into compassion went a long way towards finding sleep again.  In other words, I am learning to soothe people in…

View original post 790 more words