Good morning,
I heard my alarm clock scream.
My blood-shot eyes
staring at the bright red
illuminating my
quarter of the room,
as if to try and yank me
from the warmth and comfort of the bed.

But the bed is all lumpy,
and the covers hold no warmth,
for half the night I spent
across the hall,
writing, playing the guitar,
trying to burn off whatever excess
energy I had stored up.

The sun peers in through the
rusty blinds - one more sleepless night
under my belt.