Can't Breathe

Can't breathe
Nasals arid
as a desert wind
The running ceiling fan
Cools me not
It dries
My sleepless eyes.

Too much
Tossing and turning
Unable to think,
Senseless thoughts
Occupying my mind
Leaving no room
For my fears
Of the night.

My stomach
Is performing
It's own concert
Like children whimpering
In their nightmares.

Can't wait to see
The eastern skies
Fading to gray
exposing the outlines
Of the trees.

I crave
The oncoming scene
Of the orange hues
To paint the heavens
Of the horizon east
I'll know then
Tomorrow is outside. 

By:

William Bonilla