Archived: Insomnia by Micaela Pinto

My mind and heart crouch toe-to-toe,
To wait for gunshot’s blast-
For when it sounds, they’ll start to race,
When all but time goes fast.
Ah night has come, which splendid feast,
Can body, mind, and soul sustain,
I, for one, have starved so long,
That hope, I know, is had in vain.
For as night smothers from within,
Prodding, pesky, panic pokes-
My effort strong to beckon sleep,
The demons in my mind provoke.
With long day’s wine does peace make drunk
My husband’s and my daughter’s eyes,
They’ll soon be sleeping-soundly so,
While I make peace with my demise.
It’s coming soon, that dreaded time,
There’s no one left but me,
My custom hell awaits me now-
My wretched, perfect misery.
The “rookie move,” I’ve named it so,
Is lie in bed and wait,
With muscles lax and eyes shut tight,
And sleep to feign anticipate.
To give illusion to my love,
I always pose to stay,
But he knows as well as I do,
I always slip away.
The house becomes a padded room,
I bounce from wall to wall,
It mirrors that which is my brain,
Where nonsense conquers all.
I start to pace, from room to room,
Led by feral, hammered heart,
Desperate for the night to end-
Psychosis, friend, depart.
See I’ve much to do tomorrow,
So much to think and say,
But waste I all my thoughts and words
Before they see the day.
How will I handle work? I think,
As I sit, no- lie, no- stand.
I need be perfect, cannot fail
There are big stakes at hand.
See I have a precious little one,
Her heart and mine and the same,
I want to give her everything:
Prosperity’s the game.
I also have my studies,
I strive to be my best,
My future must be bright, secure,
And for this, I need rest!
But without sleep these goals become,
Akin to pigs in flight,
This vicious, evil entity,
Steals my value in the night.
Tomorrow I will stammer, drool,
And see things through a cloud.
New thoughts to no attention paid,
Old thoughts, they moan too loud.
Have I done it now?! Cried in despair,
Thought all this dog dung through?!
Can I finally lie, perchance to sleep?
Can I have an hour or two?!
My eyes, at last, are heavy,
I sink into the bed,
It’s happening, sweet Lord above,
The fleeing of the dread.
I finally break through to void,
Of sleep, such sweet embrace,
It hugs me tight and kisses me,
On a greying, haggard face.
A sound comes through, it’s dream time now,
I’m giddy with delight,
Not just sound, but something else,
A bright and yellow light.
The sound must be a train I think,
It blares and carries on,
The light must be its face on mine
To warn me to get gone.
My God, My God it cannot be,
Says my sick self- numb of feeling,
The sound is an alarm clock,
The light is from the ceiling.


Biography: Hello! My name is Micaela, and I came to Aims a couple of years ago to fulfill my childhood dream of being an early elementary school teacher who inspires a life-long love of learning in my students. I’ve always enjoyed writing as an outlet, and “Insomnia” is a poem about my personal struggle with chronic sleep-deprivation, a topic that I feel is relatable to many of us trying to juggle school, work and family. My favorite authors are Stephen King and Wally Lamb, and my favorite poets are Edgar Alan Poe and Emily Dickinson. I think writing is a great way to not only express yourself but also to learn more about yourself.  I’ve been surprised at the thoughts that come from my own mind when simply putting them to paper, and I feel that everyone should at least try journaling as a form of self-care.  I am 29-years-old and live in Loveland, CO, with my husband Brandon and 9-year-old daughter Raine.