Sleep

Oh no.
Not another one.
A night
A space
Where sleep won't come
It must be afraid of the mood.
Or perhaps it is being kind
Leaving us alone together
You and me and all the memories
The thoughts that spin and churn and throb
It waits until they are worn out 
Exhausted from repetition
Sleep waits until everything goes away
Until there is room in the room.
I have to say, I understand
I don't like crowds either.