Surfacing like some anxious submarine
or wide awake at the press of any of my buttons
– and they are many –
you could say that I’m a light sleeper.
Murdered regularly in a hundred ways
by as many assassins
– you could say that I’m a light sleeper.
My heart pounding
my breath short
my ears ringing
– always flight never fight –
I lie musing,
working out how
I might’ve engineered my escape.
But failing every time.
When deep sleep
finally comes to get me,
when in my head
I’ve only been snoozing,
I awake startled at the passage of time.
15.10.21