Tom Dylan

The Over-thinking, late-night drinking, aspiring writer, insomniacs Club

I can still feel the burn in my throat of

the last hit of single-malt whiskey

as I lie in the midnight darkness,

I need sleep, I need to drift away,

 

but rather than delicate slumber

what comes to visit is

visions and voices,

an endless list of things,

things I need to do

things I should have done

things I should not have said.

 

ideas for stories and poems

bounce around my head

characters chatter away to each other.

Guys, I say, can you keep it down,

I need to sleep.

 

As I lie in the smothering darkness

the rest of the world

seems far away, on the other side

of a vast ink-black ocean.

 

As the sky lightens and the sun softly rises

a line from a Pink Floyd song 

pirouettes around my head

Is there anybody out there?