i can not sleep.
it’s like i’m trapped in a house of anxiety, and i can not sleep.
i want to go on the roof like i used to when i was younger, but it’s too cold outside. i do not want to put jackets on. i do not want to put on the requisite garments which would keep me warm enough while i lay in the blowing wind and stare at a surprisingly starry sky (though in these New Nights, I should not be surprised because the sky has never been so dark) while my mind rushes through possibility and my eyes dream of what surfaces.
i want to leave. but i do not want to really leave, and drive my car thirty-minutes in a westward direction to visit someone i kind of want to see but don’t because i don’t really have anything to say to her. but i do want to go. and i do want to drive.  and i do not want to be alone, as i stare out in the night at yellow-blurred streetlights beneath a sky that is surprisingly lit with stars on a windy night while heat blows through my air-conditioning and warms my face as i feel someone next to me.
and really, i do not want to sleep. not until whispers are quieted in the stillness of dark while outside the wind continues to blow and the sky stays dark and my eyes dream like they used to as i lay next to softness and warmth.
but these things can not happen, and i can not sleep while i lay looking out a window at what it is i really want.