Bedtime

The covers were over my head. It was time for bed. But still, my fingers twitch a bit. My computer is brightly lit. In the corner of my room. Next to the dustpan and broom. I was almost ready to sleep. My computer does a gentle beep. “When will you write again? When will you share from within?” I start to dream a little bit. But my mind is throwing a fit. Ideas and plans in the making. The room starts shaking. Ok, I suppose I’ll write a poem. I turn on a song and start to hum. Then falling asleep too quickly. Waking up feeling sickly. Assuming that nothing was completed. Despite the sleep, feeling depleted. But I must have written in my sleep. I see my story and start to weep. It had been a few months since she passed away. In fact, three months to this day. It was the first long sleep in a while. And finally, a poem came out of my file. After three months. I said goodbye more than once. My computer gathered dust. While I lost my sense of trust. I thought it was just a dream… But it was more it seems…