PAD 2016 15

Late nights and early mornings
my sleep cycle is concentric
a spiral that shrinks into oblivion.

National Poetry Month - Day 21

Sin never sleeps, so they call me an insomniac
my eyeballs are allergic to the lids, blinking
leaves me tearing; like I believe in emotions.
With anger I'm most intimate, one night stand
where the day never comes.