Staring... staring... staring...

At an emotionless ceiling
Patchy and peeling in places

But still...

A perfect shade of asylum-white

A digital clock in one corner
Sits on a badly-mended table

I watch

But still it moves

Like blood-red stick figures, chasing each other!


*Chemical reaction*


She said they would help

I was desperate

Not one for pills, really

But not used to sleeping without alcohol!


*Two eyes closed; a third one opened*


Orbs of light

Floating, unintentionally

Becoming shapes

Trying to lessen their obscurity

Comforting, I guess


*Watching on*


In no way asleep

But, then again

Who knows?

Transient states of consciousness

Throughout the night

In limbo of sorts


*Morning comes*


I awaken

Open my eyes

But what for?


What for?