I haven't been sleeping well lately. Which sucks, because how I feel when I wake up pretty much dictates how the rest of the day goes.

15 years: 5,480 sunsets
the days spin by, the hours whirl
blurring into infinity
and I can't remember where I've been
nor all the answers that I figured out
falling out of my hands
scattered wildly like spilled grain
as I was, so I will be
upon this path to nowhere
to anywhere

OK, so maybe it was a little counter-productive to only sleep for four hours last night. I felt compelled to finish my blog entry, even though the ending of it was probably too rushed, and a little forced. So it wasn't until 2 a.m. that I finally surrendered and went to bed. Unfortunately, I had to wake up at 6 a.m. today. (It's going to be even worse tomorrow.)

I seem to be stuck in a time warp.

Reminiscing about distant journeys
lost in the murky mist of my fading memories
down that Mother Road, and the paths of generations past
to the south side and the lake shore
and back again
to the mountain pass and to the Sea
the years wash upon the sands, wave after wave

I woke up at 3 a.m. for no good reason and couldn’t get back to sleep.

Is this aching in my belly anxiety or dysentery? One wonders.

let this not end, I thought to myself
as the children yawned
and the conversation died
and I thought of the moon
shining only because of reflected sunlight
otherwise it is a dark, lifeless place

May has always been fraught with false promise
    dreams of love
        fire, hope
        endings
Conceived in the cradle of springs
Grown gravid then stillborn come cold winter
        And STILL I wish.

It isn't until now that I appreciate the deceptive nature of the month of May. I suppose that, ever since I was a child, May has always meant endings, but also, the promise of new beginnings. The final full month of school, with glimpses of summer ahead. But I've grown to learn that, more often than not, such promises [don't] come to fruition.