your insomnia

My eyes tear from their sockets and fall to the floor, as I stare up at myself with sadness.
Pitiful thing, trapped in the seat you cling to with desperation. How many days has it been?
Why do you seek punishment outside as well as in? your savior is coffee as well as your pen.
You trust them both with every fiber of your being, yet you trust no other.
Sleep could bring you back to this world you feel no love for. You still haven't noticed have you?
I still watch you, further away now. The things you say frighten even me, and we are connected you and I.
I do not understand this, are you seeking knowledge only obtained through this present suffering?
Do you long for the inspiration you place onto paper?
These writings are only for you as you let no one read them anymore.
I have moved even further away from you now. The pen hasn't touched paper in some time, and the coffee isnt there anymore.
The words you speak no longer make sense. It seems you have stopped moving, are you asleep?
No, you are still awake and fighting what you need the most.
Your whimpering from the pain you feel, just sleep broken girl, just sleep.
I no longer see you anymore. We are connected still, but I see nothing. I hear nothing.
You finally sleep, but alas, we will never wake again.
Was it worth it?