2022.16 Revenge

Content warning: circular thoughts, sleep deprivation, implied despair and self-neglect.

Does it ever stop? Is stopping an option?
I am propped up on cough drops and not enough sleep,
deep in the shifting miasmas of clinging nightmares,
bearing up because I keep being told I’m strong.
But this is a sickness nothing can lance;
chance would be a fine thing.

I’m tired, that’s the thing.
Just tired, and resisting the obvious option,
because anyone close enough would see at a glance
that this creature needs more sleep,
wreathed in the creeping realisation that strong
isn’t enough to stop the nightmares

Because they’re mighty, these nightmares,
and I’m tired, that’s the thing,
of living up to the myth of strong,
wrong-footing myself until the only option
is push until I’m dropping, beyond the need to sleep.
Any more of this, and I’ll need an ambulance.

But there’s something like a dirty little jubilance
as I slalom the persistent nightmares
by the simple expedient of dodging sleep,
deep in denial until I’m too tired – that’s the thing,
mocking any sensible option
after all: I need to prove myself strong

Rapidly repeat a word until it loses meaning: strong strong strong strong strong,
upright, mighty, solid, persistent, grim, ringed with vigilance;
hero or villain - those are the options,
because not enough sleep means the daytime bleeds nightmares
which I’m too tired to not flinch from, that’s the thing,
and still I stop here, not sleeping.

Repeatedly censor a concept until it loses meaning: sleep sleep sleep sleep sleep...
But the gravity well of softness is strong,
and I’m tired, that’s the thing;
twitching from the rigours of hypervigilance,
becoming one with the nightmares
harrowing down my option

And the thing is – I’d probably think clearer with more sleep,
give myself better options instead of mocking the concept of strong,
striking a balance between me and the nightmares; it may be too late.

This one’s taken a couple of days to write, and I’ve enjoyed adding more repetition than usual to an already repetitive form (sestina, as taught to us by our dear, departed friend, Caron Freeborn, available, like its kin, in the Concrete and Repeating Forms spreadsheet). I wouldn’t say it’s factual (for one thing, the cough drops line was purely for the sake of internal assonance), but it’s true enough.