Writing Myself to Sleep

I am asleep now, even before I found sleep tonight. I feel asleep, my thoughts feel asleep, my eyes feel asleep. The lamp I turned on to write this is waking me up. The refrigerator's noises are pulling me back towards sleep, my eyes burning are evidence I haven't slept at all.

I haven't slept at all. I have been around sleep but I haven't been sure whether I want to sleep. I've been enjoying my fantasies and memories too much to let myself fall to sleep. I am becoming even more awake now. I am starting to feel my exhausted nerves and swollen eyes beat with my pulse. My heartbeat only makes me sure of myself. The tick-tocking of my bedside clock only makes me think of the night. So I can only think right now about myself in the night, myself in my bed, myself next to my lamp. Myself writing to sleep, writing myself to sleep.