Thursday, 10 March 2016

Monday 2:17 (March 7, 2016)

Another night
Of broken sleep
And half formed poems
Fill my consciousness.

My body's protests
Are ignored
Once more.

The perpetual motion engine
My brain
Won't shut down.

Blink of the eye
My mind has leaped
From the past
To the present
And back

Any temporal interruption
To my thought patterns.

As if
The very concept
Of a time continuity
Is meaningless.

With the blurring
Of time
Between night/day
And sleep/consciousness.

This must stop
For the sake
Of my health
And sanity.

I feel
So powerless
To stop it.

Short of
A complete system

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: For those, who are wondering, there is no religious significant to the title, beyond, I wrote it, on a Monday, and started it, at 2:17 am.

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