Goodnight.

There will be days when sleep doesn’t want to haunt you no matter how ghosted you look. Early mornings become ghastly as you stare at the ashen face in the mirror, bleary-eyed. The singsong of birds at your window as piercing as the headache that visits. Forget camomile, not even sleeping pills can cure the zombie that has awoken inside you. The zombie you wish you could put to sleep for good.

Stay strong my friend. Sleep comes when the zombies are least prepared. One day sleep will creep up, not to scare you but to gently sing you a lullaby like your mother had. Your mother’s lullaby will lull anyone to sleep. You will rest and you will survive. People say goodnight for a reason.