Here I Sit

It's 1:07 am est The only light in the room Comes from the hood above the stove And the screen of my phone Here I sit Listening to the steady breaths of my family As they sleep This sweater itches I only wear it because it's too cold In this room because my father can't sleep If the room is above 68 degrees, he has nightmares Here I sit Not scratching where the wool rubs my dry skin Rubs it damn near raw I'm rather jealous I'm so exhausted but my mind won't stop Yet my siblings sleep in the next room As if nothing could ever disturb them Here I sit Wondering what dreamscape they traverse In their peace I'm not alone though This ancient cat sitting on my lap understands He's so old that his meow is a crackled mess That keeps him from having good little cat dreams Here I sit Stroking the fur of my only companion In this insomnia It's 1:17 am est The only light in the room Comes from the hood above the stove And the screen of my phone Here I sit Envying the peaceful slumber of my siblings, Ignoring my uncomfortable sweater, And lulling my only companion into sleep which I cannot find, Yet still here I sit, Typing out this poem when I should be asleep Writing the thoughts out of my head So that maybe the thoughts will quiet down enough For me to.... Drift off