I’m Still Awake

I’m still awake -
the room too loud with silence,
my thoughts like vipers crawling,
wrapping tight around my throat,
squeezing out any chance of rest.

I’m still awake -
heart pounding like it’s trying to break free,
every worry flashing like a warning light,
every regret a weight
I carry in the dark where no one sees.

I reach for sleep,
but it slips through my fingers
like smoke, like a lie I told myself -
there’s no peace here,
just the raw pulse of my own mind’s war.

I’m still awake -
watching the night burn its slow, endless hours,
knowing tomorrow will come too soon,
but I can’t stop the fight inside,
can’t quiet the storm that won’t let me go.

I’m still awake -
and maybe that’s all I am tonight :
a restless shadow,
haunted by myself,
caught between wanting to fall and the fear of letting go.