Black and White

I close my eyes and yearn for sleep, deep and thick and rich sleep.

I want a night of depth, filled with swirls of colors.

But, I stare into the darkness and see two colors.

Black and white.

There should be contrast, it makes the difference, a change.

I hear the talk of shades, of gray-light, dark, an immersed abundance of colorlessness.

I should dream of flowers blooming, bright and beautiful, of rain kissed leaves in fall flush with color.

But, it is a barren sea of Black and white.

I want to touch the colors of red, purple, orange, awake with the warmth they give off inside a dream world.

I want to taste yellow in the sunshined corners of my mind.

I want to smell the greens and blues of deep salty ocean waves or dew filled meadows.

But, Black and white is what I get.

The black and white of insomnia, the sleep of zombies, the sleep of the undead, the lack of sleep that stunts my mind, my body, and my soul.

I want sleep, I need it, but instead I get black and white.