when, with venomous spite, she yanks me from my slumber;
her Banshee screech propelling my heart
into a thunderous chorus of irregularity.
Conducting her nightly Hell, my demonic Master
smiles with satisfied sadism
at my wretched tossing and turning.
Stealer of hope and beauty,
she imprints herself in the lines on my face and bags beneath my eyes
draining the vitality from my body while
planting seeds of desperation in the soil of my soul.
A device of torture, my bed insistently
maintains its promises of comfort and repose.
Denied of sustenance I starve and
beg on my knees at her thrown
for a scrap of the abundance she hoards.
Bored with my misery
she smugly grants me mercy...
For one hour.
Sleep is a selfish, fickle, two-faced bitch.
Michelle reunited with her love writing a few years ago as a way to express the difficult internal turmoil she could not otherwise voice. Her work focuses on communicating the emotion in the details of an experience. She holds a BFA from Texas A&M University – Commerce. She is also a photographer and is currently on a twelve-month trip around the world.