It’s you
Didn’t see you come in
You’re so
Sneaky
Where were you hiding?
Under the staircase?
In that wine bottle?
Were you between the covers
Of my yearbook?
Because I heard something there
Yammering away
You always make an entrance
And set up a row
Sitting on the stove
Setting yourself on fire
Insisting that I smoke you
For no other reason than
It might be fun
Might be harmless
Or just take you in
Liquid form
Like the inside of a cough drop
But the worst is
When you wake me up
Pretending to be my bladder
But you’re not
You’re not inside me
You’re on my stomach, staring
At me
Pounding on my flesh
Pulling my eyelids
Dragging me here
Where you sit on my knee
And pee
Even when I’m done
And did the best I could
You still don’t let me sleep
You pull at my arm hair
My toes
Kick me in
Bad places
Tell me to sit down
Try again
Try again you can do better
Or do something else
Doesn’t matter
As long as you stay awake
And try again
I always fall asleep
In pain
And in the morning you
Don’t even bother shovelling the driveway
You take the foam off my whipped coffee
Hide my keys because it’s inspiring
Me to hate
You
On the way to work
You don’t wear a seatbelt
So I pay the tickets
You answer my phone
In a very sexy voice
That doesn’t get me
Anywhere
You eat my lunch
Spit orange seeds on the floor
Stick spoons in the photocopier
And leave my lights on in the car
Until I have
No choice
But to
Walk
Home
In
The
Snow
At dinner you smoke up
And drink my Glenlivet
You nuzzle up in the oven
When I go to heat up dessert
And the apple pie
Tastes like you
Great
The ice cream doesn’t even help
And you say that’s fine
Because now I’ll actually try
To write that down
And explain who you are
As if you have a name
Or a bed in my house
Or a social insurance number
That lets you make a living
Curl up time
Lights out
And hey, it’s you
Opening the door
Once again
Pulling this hair or that
Turning on the lamp
Bringing me mustard and
Summer sausage
To keep me going
With a glass of shiraz
And a puff of cigar
Any vice will do
You tell me
As long as I
Stay
Awake
As long as I
Do
This
insomnia bites
Yup. But it has its uses.
It sure does…I’m awake right now, I find when insomnia bites..spirit whispers more strongly
I’m there with you on that one.
Oh Trent. You are a God. (giggling)
PS I’m hiding in the humidor.
Careful, might be crowded in there.
I’m glad you’re giggling.
Sounds like a wonderful nightmare to me and one I’m familiar with. 🙂
Wonderful nightmare is probably a good way to describe it. Morning, Pete.
Back at ya.
I concur. A wonderful nightmare indeed.
I was there with this.
Neat work, Trent
Thanks much, felt the need for a slightly sinister confection.
Well done.
Thank you, sir midget.
Flipping muse disguised as insomnia. Sometimes I want to bake mine in a pie. If I didn’t “get” this the way I should have, tell me…
Wonderful extended metaphor, BTW.
You got it perfectly – knew you would.
… Did I mention I love how you have captured this monster/friend/addiction?
You know I’m happy you got that, cause it is the reason why I write. Some weird beast that claws at me, like all the time, it’s pretty uncomfortable, especially when you can’t sleep. Monster/friend/addiction says it in a nutshell.
Yes– “muse” is just too pretty for the thing that haunts you. Well, it might disguise itself as a beautiful woman, but I imagine this particular woman would be more like the antiheroine in “Fatal Attaction ”
Yeah. Some shapeshifting medusa-like figure whose snakes bite my ass while I’m driving my car, and who never buys me a drink or has anything good to say to me in a movie theatre, plus the sex is horrible. I have many names for this lady, and they are all unflattering. I’d drop an anvil on her if only she would stand still.
Yes. I got that from the work… She’s a total bitch. Even if she stood still, she’d just phase to mist and the anvil would go right through her.
Trent,
Susan sent me over to read about your muse. Mine whispers “don’t do back to sleep” at four in the morning just loud enough so I can’t. It runs knives of sadness through me on a brilliant afternoons. It casts visions across my private movie screen and stitches my mental eyelids open. I love to write.It feels so good… as long as I obey.:-0
Alice
Hi Alice – nice to meet you. Yes, we all gotta obey I guess. So are you a doc? I’m privy to a doc on WordPress who is quite mad. I hope that you are similarly bent – seems like it so far.
Yup. I’m a doc. I also write at http://madinamerica.com/author/akeys/ so I hope this qualifies me as “mad”. I truley enjoyed this piece. Thanks.
Alice
Cool. I’ll check out the other site – and glad again to have made your acquaintance.
Trent,
Oh yeah. Then my muse vanishes like smoke in the wind for however long. Probably visiting yours.
Alice
I hope they’re not doing anything bad. Probably though.
🙂 Probably.
insomnia? sounded a bit like my cats! boy! do they sometimes test my nerve with their hyperactive nocturnal antics!
OK, I am impressed with this!
This is a demon,unworthy of being a tender muse.
I have this company often and can relate.
Perhaps that explains words knocking on brain at 3am,use me,you’re not doing anything anyway
I blame a lot of things on these head-voices. But I find it doesn’t get me out of any pickles.
mine scrapes the lilac tree against my bedroom walls, dances in monotony a riverdance of raindrops echoing on the roof, clings repeatedly when the wind disturbs his flag, and causes hot flashes until I’m forced to get out of bed to keep from melting. lol then it keeps me up until the next afternoon, when I finally get it all puked up and out of my system. aint writing grand? oh, and yes, mine pretends to be my bladder quite often! douchebag!
Shards, I have to profess my unmitigated adoration of you. You make me laugh and you write way too good.
oh if only you were my publisher! lol thanks pal!
Really enjoyed the wit Trent
Thanks Bruce.
Would it sound odd telling this one spoke to me in very different voices? Not that I am actually worried about it sounding odd… But yes, any thoughts of peacefulness disappeared with your words. Strangely haunting.
Not odd at all, and pretty much what I felt when writing it.
rough task master….as long as you laugh occasionally and kick it in the arse!
I find laughing while kicking really works. But it does confuse the family.
hahaha thats a funny image… and I don’t even know what you like, but you look hilarious kicking and laughing especially in that HAT!
No awards necessary, but must say that I drop by cause you are a good writer. Nuff said – except for cheers. Always time for a cheers.