Insomnia

~ It's 4am and I'm still avoiding sleep, so I wrote this poem. Trying to sleep has brought me a lot of anxiety lately, so when I've finally got to sleep, I made the most of it and slept a good (well, bad) 12 hours. This is how I feel... ~

I've been spending the last few nights in backwards motion,
Sleeping and waking late seemed like an attractive notion,
But I feel now inside that it's doing me no good,
And if I could turn things around right now then I certainly would.

I close my eyes and see colours, intricately intertwining,
I open them and I see shapes, white with black outlining,
I am dizzy and I'm weak and I don't make much sense.
I feel distant and strange and uncontrollably tense.

What was I thinking when I thought this was a good idea?
It cost me precious, useful time and only brought on fear.