Instructions For The Insomniac

You aren’t here,you’re in a hotel room in Tokyo.The hours stretch as long as your white sheets below your body.You close your eyes and feel that your eyelids are colder than the shades of skin below your lids.The tv was silent,the light from your bedlight illuminates the costly minibar food.Untouched by the previous guest,and the previous one and the previous one.You didn’t move,because you didn’t want to.You are going to sleep.

You aren’t here,you’re in your small bed in your small room in your small house when you were a child,when you were poorer and when your parents fight less.You are curling up in a foetal position,watching your parents sit on the floor,drinking wine and reading the papers.They turn to you,you pretended to sleep,because it was past your bedtime.You’re not a collateral damage,you aren’t a colossal waste of space.You are going to sleep.

You aren’t here,you’re in a massive black hole,you could feel your vitreous humors pop,you could feel the pressure caving into your jelly brains.You elongate,you rotated like the papers in a 80’s action cartoon when the headlines roll.Your head crushes into your clavicle,you can’t feel pain.You can’t feel the burning sun on your astronaut suit,you can’t feel space,you can’t feel time,because you are going to sleep.

You aren’t here,you’re in a lonesome parking lot behind Tesco.You just got jumped.He took your wallet,he took your keys,he didn’t have to hot wire your vehicle.You had nothing left to lose.Your groceries scattered on the floor,eggs were broken and blueberries looked like blood.You didn’t move because you didn’t want to.No one came to help because it was 4 am and everyone was busy sleeping.You are going to sleep.


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