The clock is ticking
a metronome
a numbing, staccato beat
each tick reverberates on my weary mind
a magnetic pull obliterating all other thought
and sound
heavy eyelids scratch and droop
sodden, wet wool in a Scottish rainstorm

I crave sleep
the ticking beckons
now, now, sleep now

but sleep dances away
teasing mercilessly
a Sufi dervish spinning, whirling
dizzyingly taunting

giddiness overtakes me
as the clock becomes my world
shapes move in and out of my bleary eyed vision
I’m flying through space
floating, drifting,distorted
only to be pulled back
by the ticking