sleep twitch.

Make sure you hold me down in a fitting fashion, restrain all my movement, your standing there with you make up smeared. Don’t prolong the inevitable. My wrist being able to give a little will cause trauma. How can I escape from a creature of dreams?

My fear of sleep.


Betrayed with matrimony, the paint dries on the life we painted together, there is still so much we couldn’t finish due to lack of paint, the lack of life. That’s my penalty, so it shall be my conviction, my condemnation. The shackles clank, clink and clang against the flaw, I have only moments left of this life, minuets away from the truth. I have always had trouble sleeping so this fate is fitting.

“It kicks like a sleep twitch.”

“Papillion” Editors