Not a Fan of Insomnia
The ceiling fan hums in B-flat—
Did you know spiders tune their webs to vibrations?
I should text you that
But it’s 2 AM here. 4 AM there
My thoughts are electrons in a cloud—
Uncertain, buzzing but collapsing–
The moment someone observes with compassion
I read once that octopuses edit their RNA
God, listen to me. I sound like a science podcast for insomniacs
But yeah, octopuses edit their RNA
To adapt to cold water
What if I could rewrite my brain—
By folding these overworked neurons into origami swans?
At least then my breakdowns would have wings
Then maybe one day I will land on the moon
You know, the moon is just a fossil from an ancient collision
Romantic, really—being born out of disaster– like me
And still pulling tides like it has its life together
How many things are just debris pretending to be whole?
“These fragments I have shored against my ruins”
Eliot’s fancy way of saying: I’m holding it together. Barely.
My phone buzzes:
“The physics behind Einstein’s famous equation...”
Great. Maybe E=mc² can explain why I’m still awake
I count my breaths like Fibonacci numbers,
But my lungs are bad at math
Ugh! I hate math, numbers and square roots
Did you know some trees communicate through fungal networks?
I wish my thoughts had roots–
Those stretches like spacetime near a black hole—
Endless, stubborn
Speaking of stubborn–
I should tell Dad I’m leaving. Again.
Somewhere dry this time. The Atacama?
Fun fact: parts of it haven’t seen rain in 400 years
Perfect. No water, no mud,
No damp creeping into my seams
I threw out my white blanket today
Damp with tears stains,
Neat freak? Maybe. Or just angry
At the entropy of it all
Did you know crows hold grudges?
Yeah, I looked it up yesterday.
At 3AM. Of course I did
Crows and grudges
Elephants and their exceptional memories
I still hear the arguments and the slamming doors
Sound Waves travel forever in space—
Does that mean nothing ever really fades?
My thoughts are tachyons now—
Faster than light, slipping past cause and consequence
If I outran time, would anything still matter?
Even light breaks down at singularities—
Maybe I’m nearing mine
Is that why gods don’t move?—
They know motion only deepens the ache
But I know if I stopped now—
Slammed the brakes mid-sprint—
My skeleton might rocket through my chest
Newton never mentioned how much it hurts
So what now?
Pray to God for rest while I keep running?
Does divinity override inertia?
But God is probably asleep right now
And I know,I have not murdered my sleep
Yet the innocent sleep eludes me
Okay. Calm down, Macbeth and count to ten
One, Two, Three, Four–
Oh God, just let me sleep
Just for tonight
And if I do fall asleep,
I swear I’ll stop taking your name in vain
I’ll be good. I’ll meditate. I’ll drink herbal tea.
I’ll forgive my enemies. Even Monty.
I won’t even Google “am I dying?” this week
Just knock me out
Before I start confessing sins I haven’t committed
To the ceiling fan
And it condemns me
In a self righteous B-flat
@azurePond
Hello Pond
I read your poem 🌷🥺 and found myself moving through its lines as if on a journey inside your exhausted mind. Your way of describing insomnia isn't just a complaint; it's a deep and complex analysis of what happens when the mind refuses to sleep.
I really enjoyed😯💞 the shifts between scientific, philosophical, and personal thoughts. The idea that your thoughts are "electrons in a cloud" that collapse with compassion, and your attempt to make "origami swans" from your brain cells, are all incredibly powerful images that touch on our constant struggle to hold ourselves together amidst internal chaos. It's as if you're searching every corner of the universe for an answer or explanation for this insomnia, even if it's in how crows communicate or how octopuses adapt.
The feeling of the "moon born out of disaster" that's still "pretending to be whole" is a painful and realistic expression of how many people feel isolated and alone in their struggles. I completely understood your sense of helplessness in the face of this torrent of thoughts, that desperate desire to escape to a "dry" place where sadness can't seep in.
That final moment, where you bargain with the universe for a bit of sleep, even if it means changing your habits or forgiving your enemies, is a touching one that reveals the depth of your exhaustion and your longing for peace. I truly hope you find the peace and rest you're seeking. Your poem didn't just describe insomnia; it painted an artistic picture of the mind's battle with itself in the late hours of the night.
Thank you for sharing it with us ☺️ 💞💞
@Tulipsmile
and I admire this part too :
"What if I could rewrite my brain—
By folding these overworked neurons into origami swans?At least then my breakdowns would have wings"
@Tulipsmile Hello Tulip!
Thank you truly for this comment. I read it slowly, twice, maybe more because it felt like someone had stepped right into the spaces between the lines and understood not just the words but the exhaustion behind them. Maybe it is because you know how it feels.
I think sometimes when we write in the dark, we don’t expect anyone to listen, let alone resonate. But your response reminded me that even in the late hours... maybe there’s company — in crows, in strangers, in people who read with this much heart.
Thank you again 🌷💓
@azurePond
Pond ...Your words truly touched my heart It means so much that my comment resonated with you so deeply and that you felt understood not just by the words but by the exhaustion behind them too That feeling of being truly "seen" is rare and incredibly comforting☺️
Sometimes when we write "in the dark" we don't expect anyone to listen let alone resonate so profoundly Your reply was a beautiful and important reminder that even in those difficult times or late hours we're not entirely alone There's always a chance for connection and mutual understanding even from unexpected places✨🙏✨
Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your kind and heartfelt words and for choosing to share that feeling 🌷🌷🌷🌷
@azurePond i love this. Its so real, i feel like ive felt all of this several times at god awful hours of the night. These lines will live in my head rent free from now on:
What if I could rewrite my brain—
By folding these overworked neurons into origami swans?
At least then my breakdowns would have wings
Then maybe one day I will land on the moon
@unassumingEyes This really means a lot to me—thank you.. especially the fact that you have picked out a stanza💛
It’s strangely comforting to know those lines echoed something you’ve felt too... in those god-awful hours. People often imagine insomnia as something quiet or poetic—just a sleepless night, maybe a little moody stargazing. But no. It’s thoughts thoughts thoughts—loud, messy, frustrating. Not romantic, not energetic. Just chaos. It’s spiraling through Y0uTube rabbit holes watching those forest guys build bamboo swimming pools. It’s staring at your ceiling fan like it’s judging you. It’s reliving that one traumatic moment from five years ago again. And then, somehow, ending up in a random comment section where two strangers are passionately arguing over the correct method of cheese making at 3:47 AM.....so yeah... if my poem made even a bit of that feel seen—I’m grateful. Truly.
@azurePond youve written it all pretty accurately. The part about texting someone about a thought- but wait, its the middle of the night! And rabbit holes, because hey, weird question--! its all too familiar. I usually dont have trouble falling asleep in the first place, its when i wake up at 3am (usually, nightmares) that i have to deal with this stuff. Youre right- insomnia isnt poetic, the same way depression isnt beautiful. Its irritating at best 😔
Your poem has sent me into a rant! I wish i cld read this one out to everyone who doesnt understand why I "wont just sleep" xD
@unassumingEyes I’m really glad the poem resonated—even if it sparked a bit of a rant (honestly, those are my favorite kind 😍) Thank you for writing so passionately about this… your words created a kind of solidarity. It reminded me I’m not alone in this.... which made me both happy and sad. And yes—please feel free to read it out to others! Who knows... maybe I am on my way to becoming the official poet of insomniacs—a bold dream for someone who can’t even nap!😭
@azurePond
Pray to God for rest while I keep running!
This resonated so much with me. Somedays, I have so much to do, I feel overwhelmed at the mere thought of doing it, numb with tiredness but still having to do it, even when I get into bed, I can't sleep because my minds racing onto what I have to do the next day, it can be isolating, overwhelming and hard to explain 💜🥰
@Amanda84 This is one of those rare times I wish my poem hadn’t resonated. I’m so sorry you’ve felt this too, Amanda. Sending you love, strength and a big virtual hug 💓
@azurePond hug greatfully accepted 🥰💜
@azurePond
*hums lullabies softly and ceaselessly*
(They may not guarantee sleep, but might soften the sharper edges of twilight exhaustion.)
I will reply with something more in due course.
@BastionKnight haha thank you Knight <3
* records the lullaby and adds it to my sleep playlist *
@azurePond 💜