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I hate insomnia. This bane of my life refuses to loosen it’s brutal grasp on me, especially when I need it to. No longer can I wallow in my dreams where problems merely dissolve away like silken threads flutter off into the breeze. Instead I am haunted by the cares of the day and anxieties swoop with uncomfortable ease around the chambers of my insides. A sharp throbbing ambushes my temples and water seeps out of their windowsills. Finally, I collapse into an uneasy slump over my pillow as the morning light seeps beneath the curtain edge and my alarm shatters any delusions of respite…
