Restless
May 31 · 1 min read
It is past midnight now,
ticks of the clock seem
like an inevitable reality.
What do I do? Where do I go?
I feel like I’m
wading upstream in a torrential flow;
There’s a strange unease,
the blood in me twitches and
muscles and thoughts and images
move constantly, out of reach.
The voice at the back of my head..
my voice at the back of my head
scratches, screams and whispers
nonsyllables, doubts that gnaw
insecurities that claw
their way out in the open for the world to see.
The cool breeze in a summer night is freezing,
my cold sweat drips
in this pitch black world.
Restless, I stay motionless in my bed,
past midnight.
