insomnia

insomnia has been a part of me for over a year.
self-inflicted, never-ending, darling insomnia.
what happened to you? what happened?
are you leaving me too, old friend?
who am i, without you?

i miss having to only smoke one cigarette before it made me dizzy.
i've thought of putting them out on the soft, peach-skin of my forearm.
on the soft peach-skin of my thigh.

i sit on the roof overlooking my mother's window and tremble.