Insomniac
I hadn’t slept in days. My exhaustion was an oversized wool sweater in the middle of summer and I couldn’t reach the itch. When I finally woke I had no idea what time it was. Through my window I saw an orange sun, low hung, just above the horizon and the sky was a recently detonated fiery explosion. It was either dusk or dawn. East or west. I lacked all context. This wasn’t my room. And it wasn’t my house. I was afraid to pull down the covers. To turn on the lights. The only thing to do was wait, do nothing, wait for the sun to either rise or fall. Give it a few minutes. Find myself in darkness or a gathering light. Time always tells you the truth. Whether it's just beginning or if this was the end.
3/16/25
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