23:45

I am not what they tell you.
Not Gentle.
Not kind.
I am an old, hungry thing
draped in the shape of rest.

They praise me as essential,
a healer, a quiet merciful tide.
But when you come to me, trembling,
I peel back your eyelids from the inside
and invite the creatures you try to drown,
to rise and feast.

You whisper for escape,
but I am no escape.
I am the trapdoor beneath the mind
where thought falls
and keep falling.

When you surrender to me,
I remake your world in my image.
Vivid, echoing, looping.
A dream that circles you like a raven
recognising the prey.

You step through my corridors
again,
and again,
and again.
Until you can no longer tell
whether I am mimicking your reality
or rewriting it.
Whether you wake
or simply shift
to a brighter part of the same dream.

All day, your thoughts gnaw at you,
feral, relentless.
When night comes,
you crawl to me like a suppliant
please, just quiet, just once.

But I have long forgotten mercy.

Tonight, you sank early,
20:30, soft as a candle flame.
I smothered the wick
and opened my jaws.
You wandered my dark, too vividly,
stumbled awake thinking dawn had broken
but no,
only midnight,
only 23:45,
only the first ripple of my hunger.

And now, at 1:34,
you write your exhaustion
while I breathe against your spine,
waiting,
waiting for you to fall again.

I am SLEEP.
Not the comfort you were promised,
but the shadow that presses its fingerprints
against the inside of your skull,
leaving marks that never seem to fade.

And tonight,
as every night,
you will return to me,
not because you trust me
but because you must.

And I will be here,
haunting you softly,
patient as ash,
endless as night.

Reviews

[Pete]

quite an epic write. could feel the tension and unease. rather disturbing, favorite part -

I am SLEEP.
Not the comfort you were promised,
but the shadow that presses its fingerprints
against the inside of your skull,
leaving marks that never seem to fade.

[Pallavi]

Thank you Pete!
Glad to hear your words.

[Lorry]

I was suckered into thinking that what turned out to be sleep was some horrific ramblings of a murderer, but then I thought "what is sleep?" and from what I know no one can explain it. It was once thought to save us energy but that has been largely disproven when it actually only saves us 3-4% from wakefulness, so its hardly ideal reasoning.
I did opt more for the clearing out the brain method, until I realised that my cleaner isnt very good at their job and keeps misfiring important ..... damn, I used to know that word until she misfiled it! 😀
A great write Pallavi, with enough intrigue and twist to make the scenes fly by.
Nicely done.

[Pallavi]

Thank you Lorry!
Hope you find that word 😂☺️

[JessyJacob]

Hi Pallavi,
Hope you are doing well.


Jessy Jacob

[Pallavi]

Hello!
I am doing good.
Thank you for asking!

[Michael Sun Bear]

Oh Pallavi, what a poem! It’s 23:13 here, and sleep escapes me and then I read this powerful piece of writing. What a story with which to try to find sleep. I congratulate you on this great piece which I am saving to my Favorites library.

[Pallavi]

Thank you!
I am glad that you liked it.
Thank you so much!