the day looks weary,
the night grows mold,
but nestled between the eyelids of the day
a song about sleeping for eternity
lay
wake up at 5am,
tell myself to write a poem,
forget to write a poem,
go back to sleep and call it a nap
go to sleep,
go to sleep,
go to sleep,
stop scrolling through reddit,
stop trying to learn spanish,
stop listening to music that sounds the same
and is on a loop because the algorithm that feeds it to you
doesn’t know when to stop,
but you should,
now go to sleep,
make peace with the fact that you can, and will,
repeat this whole process over and over again,
though maybe do some exercise tomorrow to wear yourself out,
so tomorrow when you need to go to sleep,
go to sleep,
go to sleep,
you won’t have this issue again
Fred Aiken Writing 