My eyes dart back and forth, chasing shadows of my thoughts against the wall.
Clamped shut eyelids can not contain the mob of possibilities that are breaking down the weak walls of my head.
But sleep resides behind a door I do not dare to open.
Unconcious thinking could bring worse situations then I can control.
My exhausted body will take the risk, but the lightning storm in my mind will not cease.
So for hours I let it loose to race the beats of my heart, firing off scenes  until even my restless brain is too tired to think.
Shallow thoughts are weakly produced, but quickly fall into the deep trench of my slipping mind, unable to be retrieved or remembered, leaving random remnants of confusing ideas.
Sleep's soft fingers soon close my eyes, reach for my waiting hand, and lead me into a soft semi-careless slumber.
But I fear that accepting this night, will leave no invitation for the next.