I cannot sleep, so I shift. You are next to me, very warm. Too hot. When I lie next to you, I think of her. When I lie with her, I think of you. I sometimes wonder what makes you sad before you go to sleep and I am afraid it is me. I also wonder what makes her desperate late at night.
I cannot sleep, so I remember the time when I was lying in the snow with a hole in my stomach. I wondered if I would freeze to death or bleed out first. I never found out.
I cannot sleep so I string words together and create conversations I will never have. Or ones I should never have, but I will and they will not go the way I want them to. Sometimes I think I am dreaming of hotels and room service, but I am just imagining.
I cannot sleep so I count blinks, heartbeats, times I swallow my saliva, times I shift. Me head twitches and I wonder who will go insane first, you or me. Or her? I am afraid.