For The Love Of God
by Belinda Roddie
For the love of God, bring me sleep at last,
for I grow weary at this time of night.
My eyes grow heavier, but despite that,
I lie awake for hours at a time.
Sometimes, I count the cracks along the walls
and ceiling, finding faces in the white
and crumbling plaster. Once the morning calls,
I feels the veins around my face grow tight
and angry. I can't function like this for
much longer; I will surely go insane,
for if I cannot sleep much anymore,
the hallucinations will be so plain
to see. In fact, I'm having one right now:
Who walked in here and left behind a cow?!