Red Eye

...I can't sleep.
Should I count some sheep?
Maybe get something to eat?
I think I'd rather creep.
Tippy-toes on creaking floors.
Knocking things while on fours.
What's that noise?
The darkness has me paranoid.
Reminding  me that I'm alone
No one I could even phone.
...I don't like the track my thoughts are on.
Turning the night into a Pablo Neruda poem.
 'Tonight I can write the saddest lines.'
I'll star gaze while I linger on its lines.
This night is for sleepless dreaming.
And for the heart's romantic scheming.
Its for confessing and for praying.
...I don't even know what I'm saying.
It's best that I don't think too deep
My eyes are too prone to weep.
Damn it.
I can't sleep.