Love and Sleeplessness

A so-called symptom of my dysfunctional mind is that I love too intensely, fall far too quickly, open up my soul (and legs) too readily and worship those whose pheromones make my own dance.

Funny I always thought that love came from the heart, not the head.

But I am not a doctor and my unsterile clinical trials in romance may be contaminated by the words of poets and songwriters who tell me that love is the answer, and that what the world needs now is love, sweet love, and that I and my people, and our over caring, overbearing, kill with kindness, love will tear us apart again, love is real.

Another symptom, and one I can’t dispute, is that some nights sleep evades me, my senses are too awakened and I ride the wave of the night, hanging on the crescent moon, making sure the world keeps turning, waiting for daylight to lift the burdens of the world from my wide-eyed, weary soul. 

How many times must I lie awake and watch my lovers sleep, and fall ever fonder while they dream on, oblivious, safe and surviving in a world without me? When I think of a world without them I want to die, and so I lie there, just gently being with them, secretly absorbing their presence and weaving it into quality time in my mind.

One such night not so long ago I was restless, and I lay still in the dark beside you while you slumbered peacefully. And while my heart fluttered full of excited butterfly wings and whimsical things, I listened to you breathe. To calm me I took deep breaths and synched our breath together in unison and after some time, when I gave a big sigh, you sighed in time and it was beautiful, like the sounds of seashells whispering the secrets of the sea back to me.

I have a notion that your sleeping heart knows me better than your woken head will allow. And this stolen glimpse of romance will hold me for days.

See I am not so greedy and needy in my quest for others love, I manifest it myself to fill a void. I know you seek only to fill me up in less poetic ways.

Still I fall with glee into a blissful state of love and yet in the morning, as you awaken, your demeanour will assure me it is over.

How short such a love affair would be if I ever dared to sleep with anyone, so I simply fuck then chase shadows until morning, and slip out of the door and into mourning.

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