I'm tired.

I vision chubby koalas
watching me from my canopy post.

I can't sleep.

I'm restless.

I dream of them tickling me
with tiny eucalyptus leaves
each time my eyelids are tempted with
heaviness.

I'm afraid.

And all the swirly neon cinnamon
rolls on my ceiling are spinning and
spinning as the fan
chops them into bite-size cereal and sends
them flying off into the milky walls
of my room.

I need to sleep.

my thoughts are laughing at me,
forming little comic book bubble
captions floating and bouncing
through this stale air I breathe.

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