Diana Darby ** "I V" ** Intravenous

Insomnia

Nighttime has become a ritual
of agony.
Me,
lying in my bed,
legs dancing uncontrollably,
sliding from corner to corner,
up in the air,
twisting,
back and forth,
as if I were doing the Cha-Cha.
Hour after hour,
ticking by,
trips to the bathroom,
and kitchen.
Drinking and peeing.
staring at the moon,
and the light on my windshield.
It is the same,
night after night.
In bed by 10p.m.
exhausted,
only to wake
after thirty minutes
and find myself unable to sleep.
Three days passed
and I am more tired than ever
and still,
no sleep,
just dancing.
I think of Hans Christian Anderson’s
tale of the girl who wore the red shoes.
She couldn’t stop dancing
till they cut off her feet.