Thursday, October 14, 2004
Insomnia comes back to me, like an old friend.
The impossibility to close my eyes, I won't find a cure, I don't want to.
I like it this time of the night when I lay awake, tossing, turning, finally getting up and seeing cold air and empty space.
Finding the meaning of alone.
The house sleeps this time of the night, the computers rest and the dogs slumber, panting fitfully.
Those others in the house, lie still, undisturbed by my movement. Though, I cannot drag myself far from those sheets, from the floor beside my bed.
If I rest my hand there, maybe I can still feel the warmth we made. If I lay my head there, maybe I can still hear our breathing, still feel your touch, the laughter, your kiss. It seems tonight I can, like the echo following your scream in a cave. As though we dented the very fabric here so that I might reach in and laugh with you, again.
posted by Fuzzy @ 01:15
monologue.