Mazurka of Insomnia

 my heart starts to beat in the rhythm of mazurka …
every time night invites me to walk the meadows of dreams

I wish … to sleep … but squish … even smallest beep

too hot – too cold – too soft – and too hard
swallowed in anticipation that keeps up the vibe of my cells

the clock … ticking … neighbor’s talk … whipping

I’ve drunk seven hundred glasses of water
my mind is so tired …  but my eyes just won’t shut

walk around … like crazy … to be drowned … too lazy

and I feel like being in a coma for seven years
swollen by the stuffed air of my room … I open the window to breathe

fresh air … in my lungs … wind in hair … heart drums …

for someone sits on my chest and presses my neck down
sounds that penetrate into me suffocate me – I have so much work to do

tension … I can’t stand … no attention … I feel canned

I look at the screens but my head starts spinning
same faces, same lights, same smiles, same filters, same … same …

irritating… invasion of stress … so frustrating … morning is not a bless

and I can feel nerves breaking … I need cold floor …
I lay on tiles … trying to escape … the stuffed air and screens …

so good … this freshness … if I could … touch nothingness …

I want to get out … I want sun and wind …
but until then… I will stay laying on my tiles … cold fresh tiles …

but still … no sleep … I feel so ill … too weak to weep

 

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