Sun, 12/09/2018 - 14:12 -- puffin

I stumble home, inordinately tired --
Spent, drained, and reeling.
This weary mind flitters through topics
But has the capacity to linger on nothing.
Reluctantly, I've given up working,
Both strained eyes and brain turned myopic.
But inside, I have the worrisome inkling
That it won't be so easy to retire.

Nonetheless, the routine is easy --
Hot shower, peppermint oil, cup of herbal tea.
I turn off all the lights,
Turn on the soft jazz playlist.
Then I turn in for the night
And wait until my worries are dismissed.

Eventually, it's all gone --
Anxieties, reminders, transient ponderings.
But I'm still here,
Trapped in awakeness until dawn,
Lamenting the resting hours I'm squandering
And wishing it would all simply disappear.

Eventually, I give up.
I get up.
I walk out into the night air,
Backpack heavy on my shoulders,
And I start to walk there,
Feeling decades older.

I ascend to our room,
Lofted high above the ground.
The light's on; someone came here before--
I walk in, and the sound of the door
Makes him quizzically turn around.
A moment's eye contact.
A brief wave.
Then he resumes,
And I unpack
and put water in the microwave.

There's an understanding;
A happiness, a sympathy.
Two sleep disorders slightly out of step,
Related by our stubborn inability,
But persistent notwithstanding.

We busy ourselves to pass the time,
Slaving over quantum or cal 3.
Minutes turn to hours,
Screaming at us from the clocktower.
From this height, the sunrise is sublime;
We glance at it over our cups of tea.

At eight I'm feeling dizzy.
I curl up on the sofa and close my eyes.
A pause from the desk where he's been busy;
Rapidly followed by a tired sigh.

He sets down his cup of darjeeling,
And I hear the door as he leaves.
The elevator rings in the hall,
And I know we'll both soon achieve
What evaded us and started this all;
Maybe now, we'll get some sleep.

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The flow is incredibly amazing 

great work

powerful usage of words

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