The sun rises,
blood orange and peach pink. They call it
inertia.

Please, don’t try to wake me,
don’t make me,
I can’t. I can’t wake.
I dream I’m awake;
eat breakfast, get dressed,
have whole conversations,
but I’m not.
I’m asleep.

The sun crests,
clear skies and high noon. They call it
chronic.

Please, don’t tell me I’m awake.
I’m not. I can’t wake.
You may dream that I have,
but really I’m about to break;
eye seizures, hallucinations.
This isn’t waking.

The sun sets,
last light and evenstar. They call it
idiopathic.

Please, don’t let me sleep for too long.
I long. I ache.
Wake me up in an hour—
no, two—no, three—
but I’ll get up.
Surely I’ve had enough sleep.

The sun rests,
moon and nocturne. They call it
nonfatal.

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A. Riel Regan (they/any) is a queer, disabled author of poetry and fiction with an intense appreciation for “the human heart in conflict with itself,” as Faulkner said. Their writing often deals with themes of inner conflict, chronic illness, knowing oneself through nature, and spiritual connections. Their poetry has been featured in or is forthcoming from Pine Mountain Sand & Gravel, the Kentucky State Poetry Society’s Pegasus, The Curious Nothing, HOOT Review, Emerge Literary Journal, The Forgotten Writer, new words, Exist Otherwise, THE YELLING CONTINUES, FLARE Magazine, and Impossible Task. When not writing or reading, they find themselves killing half their houseplants and boldly defending the other half from their cat.

Instagram: @riwritesatnight
Bluesky: @riwritesatnight.bsky.social