as I lay there dying
here I am again
back in my lonely room
focused on nothing but my breathing
deep & easy
like I’ve done all my life
if only I could breathe like this
in my sleep
but my demons won’t allow it
won’t take no for an answer
won’t take yes either
as if to say you have no choice
we’ll do as we please
sometimes I awaken in the morning
not remembering a thing
a slight breeze from the window
refreshing my memory
a reminder of faces once in my life
as I lay there dying [again]
trying to remember their names
july two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 
Turned 75 two weeks ago. Have most of the illnesses that accompany an old man in his sunset. I am a participant in this lying down and dying. So are my contempories. More accurate than dying though is evaporating. Evaporating with each breath, ache and pain.
Very moving thoughts, Carl, thank you for sharing them.
Your narrator might want to consider blocking out the demons and using his/her sleepless hours to pray for names and souls, recalled or otherwise. I have done this a couple of recent nights — prayed for what seemed like hours because I just could not sleep.
I think our “demons” are the aches and pains in our joints and nerves. It’s impossible to get comfortable most of the time.
I understand this too well. You capture the feeling perfectly.
Thanks you very much for visiting & commenting on this piece, Leonard.