Poem: Yet Another Poem About A Bored Narcissistic Insomniac

And at the end of another night without sleep I’m at a loss for what I did: Sat listening to myself talk – talking to someone who was really only there to watch me as I listened to myself.

Constant as wallpaper.

Convince myself that it’s not a big deal because when asleep you’re not doing anything anyway.

But that’s just 6.45am logic.

Nothing more, and sadl…