Madness Subtly Creeps

Fatigue holds my hand.

Insomnia kisses my forehead.

Sleeplessness and her friends gently paint violet shadows under the dull and boarded up windows to my soul.

//

Days feel like dreaming.

Not adventurous, vivid or humorous. Not quite a nightmare, either.

Faded, distant, blurry. An eternal question, not yet asked, only slightly out of reach, but never tangible.

//

Nights are sharper, but hollow.

Clarity has a high cost.

Sleep sneaks in and out like a clandestine lover, so furtive even I cannot be sure when he comes and goes.

//

Only the moon is constant.

Standing sentinel, bearing witness to my nebulous life.

The passing of time is only marked by her waxing and waning.

//

I cannot be sure if I’m dreamwalking through my life, or lifewalking through an endless dream.

I suspect the moon has cursed me. Or freed me.

We watch each other and she caresses my exhausted face, singing a song I’m certain only I can hear.

///