insomnia

Sometimes I feel so useless
like rain on the ocean.
I jump into a bucket of water
and end up as Ophelia in a parallel
universe, cursed by the fiction
of madness – what the wise
call love. Hopeless like waiting
for an answer from a god
that hasn’t died,
but never did exist.
Listening to the siren’s song
while the world around me sleeps
(I envy them their oblivion).
She lulls me with her sweet voice
and keeps me awake still.
My life is reduced to the parenthetical
an aside from an princess who cannot lie
What will Cordelia do?
but that yet is the madman’s song.
Childe Roland, why have you come?
‘Twas a fools errand, you see.
You have passed the trials for naught,
it turns out, waiting here for you
was always – alas! – always only me.

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