Sleepless

My eyes are in a cocoon. They will open when there is light. Only light from the sun. Not the gross, hallway light. No, the hallway is dead to me. There is only me in this bed. There is only me and this pillow. I’ve always only needed one pillow. I can’t stand being propped up, like a haunted doll on a shelf. This is it, this is sleep. I can count into the darkness. Using infinite numbers. In the morning, I will allow myself to open my eyes. But I’m still counting, and counting…