Insomnia

The ticking of the clock sounds out in the silence, spreading awareness that time goes on. Each tick, each tock, grates on my nerves with a passion unfurled. Stillness pens a solitary tune deep into my being and all I can hear is the night deciding my fate. A speck of dust has not moved from its slumber on the wall, though I’ve categorized its very existence in the moonlight. Each cricket outside my window titters at my misery, content to stay stationary as the world passes them by. Darkness, my companion though never a solace, seeks me out every evening until light breaks through and I’m out of the shadows again.