try and get some rest

I can't sleep.  My life is uneventful.  My life gets more uneventful when I just as soon fall asleep than think much more.  I tried to take something to help with sleep—namely, this brown sugar and cinnamon pastry stick.  It's 100 calories, forget about it.  Just because my life isn't particularly exciting at the moment, I see no reason to get further blue with it, nor even to take it to heart and start questioning my existence.  No one ever started thinking about how they can hang themselves just cause they had some free time to think while being bored.  I mean, I could be reading...my life does essentially depend on it, right?  Eh, I figure I'll be cheery come morn.  I miss you.  I was thinking about not having you in my life like a real person, and grasping it like a normal person, minus all the details that would conjure up, like you getting happy thinking about him.  I'm trying to make myself a martyr, but it's difficult.  Sometimes I call you a slut when I'm angry, but I'm just being resentful looking at my own life.  It's probably my diet.  I mean, babe I eat way more sugar than I let on.  I mean, it's pretty embarrassing the state of deliciousness I uncover.  God sometimes makes me eat more the next day, so I can apologize to you for calling you a slut.  Usually though, I'm aware of how irrational my thinking has always been. Do you think you want to get happy thinking of me?  Is that something you may be interested in?  I know you're reading this—oh, what am I saying, of course you are!  What I was doing before composing this little number was I was telling myself to try and get some rest as I turned the light off, but in a different mental voice, that of a concerned relative or close friend after going through some trying incident, or having spent the last twentysomething hours in the hospital.  He knows that it's been tough on me, mentally and physically draining, and it's about my wife.  She has been in an accident, and lost her arm in a collision with a semi-truck.  We're just trying to take it all in.  Of course, she's in the hospital, sedated, my sweetness, and he knows I have to get back to my home—I have to rest, he says.  And I don't disagree.  I'm so emotionally drained right now, because my wife, she just lost her arm; I have to be strong, for her, it flew into the bushes.  Everyone's been so supportive.  I can still hear the sound, it was like a defective boomerang.  They just want me to go home, and try to get some rest in my lonely bed.