Insomnia - A Poem

(Picture found at Insomnia Cures Treatment.)

When I first started seriously writing about ten or so years ago, I mainly focused on poetry. About five years later, though, I realized that I wasn't very good at poetry so I stopped. Now I have a sudden urge to try writing poetry again. Here's one I wrote a month ago called "Insomnia." Tell me what you think.


Sleep
is like
money—

I
never have
enough.

Instead of sheep
I count
possible
future disasters,
and the
tape machine
inside
my head
plays
an endless
loop of
yesterday’s
sins.

The bed
becomes
concrete
under my
crooked spine.
I rest
my head
on a rock.

There are no
ten million
fireflies
lighting up the world,
and planet Earth
does not turn
slowly.
It’s only boredom
that makes
the clock
tick
so slow.

I slip
into a
eleventh hour
dream,
wrapped
in covers
like a womb.
I swim
in the sea
of my
unconsciousness,
leaving my
clothes and will
on the shore,
heading towards
the other side.

And then the clock
rings three times.