Insomnia

Sometimes, sleep eludes me. This is one of those times. Maybe transcribing these thoughts will help me get them in order, and get some rest already. It's what my therapist always says: get it out, get it down, get it done. But here, lying alone on the bed, constantly attacked from visions of a past that somehow always manages to resurface on the blank walls of the vault... I'm not that sure. If there only was a way to turn the lighting all the way down, but then the darkness would become much too oppressive. No, it's better this way. Some light, some memories. Darkness is oblivion. I wish I could sleep. Get up, give the order, and the bed retracts, leaving me alone inside the cubical room. I pace around, the whole ten steps it takes me to go from one corner to the next, to the next, to the next. You can't even see the lines where the door meets the wall, or the rest of the appliances. Just me, and six blank surfaces devoid of anything. It's both beautiful and terrifying. Like the face of ______ right before no mustn't think. Breathe. Relax. You are safe here. You are safe here. You are safe here. Outside is far, far away, a million steps away, a long drop away. Up here you are safe. Remember to breathe, and everything will be alright. Among the clouds nothing can harm you. Not even memories.