melted sand in your palm

i dont sleep anymore unless i pass out because i have to wake up and i dont like that moment where you hover just above the horizon of possibility and failure and pure lucid thought and things you only wish would stay in your tangled gray membranes for a few seconds more. when i wake up i find another piece of myself on the pillow, when i wake up i cringe all over again, when i wake up things end and begin just to end and begin again, when i wake up i am still searching for equilibrium with my lungs and my endocrine system, when i wake up i am more weary than i was when i fell asleep.
we say "fall" asleep and when i wake up i am scratched and bruised.
we wake up so we can go to sleep and we go to sleep to wake up.
last night i said that our bodies are programmed to heal, repair is inevitable, things will be fixed because theres nothing else left to do. for some reason i thought that realizing that would make it all better. for some reason it just makes me very tired.
we sleep to replenish our bodies and our brain chemicals. we sleep and we dream, and dreams sort out our problems for us.
this insomnia
is yet another form of self destruction
so take a sip and watch the sun rise.
but thank you because i realized that i can smile and not feel bad about it, thank you because for one day it was all a-okay, thank you times a side of three jupiters, times seven solar masses, times the Taj Mahal and the Great Wall.

in other news:
we all enjoy
a good tragedy
so slip on your mask
and call me
Antigone.