The Paranormal Hour? Poem by Becca Bell

3 o'clock
Why can't I sleep?
I toss and turn
I sing, I read
Why can't I stop worrying?
Those sheep don't work.
And the house is too quiet
My feet are frozen
My lips are dry
I think of you
And tears fall from my eyes
The dark room holds my fears
Like a mother holds her child
I crawl back in bed
Curl up in a ball
Is insomnia a symptom of love, or pain?
I don't even know the difference anymore
I'm exhausted
But cannot sleep.