a love letter to insomnia

insomnia and i are really tight,
they appear and my eyes shoot open.
i'm filled with a bitter indifference
bloodshot, my world has awoken.

when insomnia gets bored, i'm summoned.

where the 3am marathons at?

the housework becomes unburdened,

the confused face of my cat.

insomnia has a wandering eye,
so i'm not ready to be exclusive.
and whilst i die more each night,
it's then when i'm most conducive.

my eyes are slits in bags of fat,

the contents of my brain running empty.

i can't fulfil this, or that 

when insomnia just cares for me.

the affair was never a secret,
i'm bad and unfaithful to rest.
but the daytime always comes,
and insomnia goes to bed.