Sleeping Curse –
Taken hostage by the sleeping curse,
I could not release its savage hold;
its coercion poisoned me to believe
the laundry, by itself, would fold.
Mesmerized, I realized not
this sadistic brute stealing away my time;
had my addiction not set in,
I would have noticed this as the first warning sign.
Imprisoned beneath its violence,
freedom was not recognizable anymore;
its dreaded demands petrified me
into one long suffering snore.
Isolating me from engagements,
the sleeping curse made me miss a meeting.
The entire fault belonged to this beast
whose barbaric savagery kept me sleeping!
My psychologist said he’d protect me from this beast
and its vice of deadening my senses to his incoming number.
So, he discontinued my Klonapin since he said,
“this always stops these curses of slumber.”
“There’s got to be another way. This is much too easy”,
I pleaded to the M.D. gent.
But he already had made up his
freakin’ helpful mind,
and from this cure he would not relent. 🙄
As I recovered from
Klonapin Withdrawals my wounds,
I learned to discern healthy sleep from that of the sleeping curse;
one allows me to not miss doctors’ visits
while the latter knocks me out to tarry in its hearse.
Flash Fiction Poetry