Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Insomnia : Just Like A Pill


I’m not myself.

I can’t sleep.

That is the way I have been feeling these last couple of minutes, hours, days. 

I can’t sleep.

That is not something new.

I haven’t been able to sleep for a while now.

I’m just not myself.

The heat still radiates from my body as he rolls off me. I’m sticky from his cum and I do not want to move.

I didn’t want to. Yet in my despair I had to put on a show.

My body was there yet I mind was back in that room doing deeds that I do not want to think about.

I am disgusted.

I just lay there in my own juices unable to sleep. Restless.

What’s bad is I didn’t come. His pleasure was more important at the moment.

I felt worthless.

I think that I should be doing something else. I can’t sleep and there is still so much to do.

There is so much to do yet I sit here in bed.

I think about Masturbating.  Sometimes the intense sensation might give me some comfort. But I do not want to touch myself.  I am disgusted with myself.  I hate festering in my own skin.

The house is quiet and everyone is sleeping.

I lie awake at night. I try not to listen to the voices in my head. I can’t stop them sometimes. The events of the day are floating around in my brain.

The scene plays in my head and leaves me desperate for something else to think about.

Desperate for sleep.

I can’t sleep.

That is not something new.

I hope that sleep will come soon.  Hoping that I could just think about nothing.  Knowing that there is so much on my mind.  There is some much wrong that I am finding it hard to focus on what I want more than anything right now.

Sleep. 

Will it elude me forever?  Will I be trapped in this endless cycle of sleepless nights and lonely days? 

I can’t decide what to do. I turn on the TV not giving up on sleep but hoping that the voices in that box will calm or muffle the voices in my head.  It did not help and another hour goes by.

I feel him touch me and my skin crawls as his hand reaches my inner thigh. 

He is sleeping yet he still his fingers crawl up my body and finds my ample breast. 

It gets frustrating and unnerving.  I can’t take this life anymore. These sleepless nights…

I can’t take it anymore.

I fight the urge to cry.  I don’t want him to see my tears.

I hold them and I feel myself exploding. 

I can’t sleep.

That is not something new.

I look over and there is a bottle of my salvation. A full bottle of sleeping pills.  I didn’t want to take them.  I didn’t want to spend my whole life taking pills and wasting.

Tonight I need them.  I can’t live without them. 

I take 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, hoping and wishing that will be enough. 7, 8, 9, 10.

I fade….

I’m not myself.

No comments:

Post a Comment