insomnia, anyone?

I stayed awake till two
o’clock, tired
but not wanting to sleep.

To sleep, perchance to dream. Aye, there’s the rub.

I am no Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be—
not even an attendant lord,
not even the fool.

All I have is this book
full of words that repeat themselves for pages
andpagesandpagesandpages,

and they call this book my life.

Write.
Write, woman, write
because
you must.