There is so much happening outside and inside us, that insomnia is now a relentless constant, especially for women who feel too deeply.
Because it is too hot
Or it is too cold
Because there is something on the roof,
That scratch scratch scratches all night long.
Because I keep getting up to drink water
And then I keep getting up to pee.
Because I slept too much when I was younger.
Because I saw a cockroach once on my pillow,
And now I believe that it is always around
Waiting to crawl in my ear and feast on my brain.
Because I scroll, scroll, scroll, watching lives happen
At a distance of one day forward from where I am.
Because I’m haunted by worry, or sorrow, or anger.
Because the nights are too short,
To contain everything I feel.
Because I am so exhausted by the weight on my heart,
I don’t even have the energy to unload it.
Because when I do go to sleep,
I have nightmares of being abandoned.
Because as much as I would like it to
The world doesn’t just stop.
Because when I wake up, it will still all be here,
And any respite I get in sleep, will have been a lie anyway.
Because I am immune now to hot baths, turmeric milk, guided meditation,
And yes, I could keep my phone aside,
But then I’d have to deal with the inside of my mind.
Because I am kept awake,
By all these half truths,
Swimming in my eyes.
Image source: a still from the film Thappad.
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