Craig Goldsmith
My Life Without Sleep
Sleep is a stranger to me,
Once her familiar touch caressed me daily.
Where has she gone, that I may be left,
Alone.
Cold thick sweat,
where once was—soothing warmth
of sleeps sweet …
Sleep is a stranger to me,
Once her familiar touch caressed me daily.
Where has she gone, that I may be left,
Alone.
Cold thick sweat,
where once was—soothing warmth
of sleeps sweet …