In The Throws of Night Combat

Every night is combat, me vs sleep. No, wait. That makes it sound like I dislike sleep. That’s not true. I love to sleep. That’s part of the problem: most nights I don’t sleep. I wish I could.

Sleep is a battle. Some nights I try meditation, and something wakes me up, the dog, a neighbor, a car driving by, sirens. I get up, read for a bit, try again, only to wake up a short time later. Some nights I drink. I tell myself it’s so I’ll relax. The worst is when the dreams wake me.

A chase, a mistake, I’m lost, I’m alone but not alone, I lose my gravity and fall into the sky. Or I wake up in the dream and I know I’m still asleep and can’t wake up.