Sleepless

I bought some supplements from the pharmacy. On the table, I lean against it. This is supposed to help with sleep. I was supposed to sleep. That first night. The whole night. Everything. Shut down. I bought the supplements. They are supposed to be “doctor recommended.” I don’t know. What else there is. I take a pill at 9:00 am. I still didn’t get much REM. When I try to sleep, the bed shifts too. Like a hammock on the beach that is blue. The seasons are like muddy boots. I don’t know how the mud got there. I think I walked in the rain that night. A few years ago. Or a few years from now. Pills that are white and green. Tablets that dissolve and hiss and howl. I bought the pharmacy. Yes, I brought all my friends home. Pills all over the counter. Making pretty patterns. Spilling. I spilled everything out of me, and the couch muttered as I flopped down. So I slept on the floor. I don’t know. I don’t know why they ask. I can’t answer. They have a morphing, asking, begging face. I don’t know what words are. But I know faces. I recognize her face. As I lie on a cot. Ethereal. I could fall forever. That would be heavenly. If I fell forever. I could sleep while falling. I remember buying all those supplements. Lots and lots and lots. I do remember. It all started in November. I do remember.