every cell screams
for sleep
except my neurons
which thrive on
anxiety and exhaustion
little sleep
hours on the road
physical exertion
all the ingredients
for a night’s rest
spoiled by a brain
that insists on
picking apart each
atom of dismay
leaving a cat’s cradle
of depression tangled
around my brain
inhibiting my abilty
to reach the off switch
so i stare up
at that fucking ceiling
having a silent talk
with myself about
establishing some
god-damned boundaries

every yawn is
a vicious taunt
triggering my
fight or fight reflex
my heart racing
as i work myself into
a frenzy of tears

the planes circle
i busy myself making
stories about the people
coming to dallas
some to find love
others to bury
ones they have lost
and i feel so small
barely moving as i
wage war with myself
to break the monotony
of a life half lived
at the edge of sleep
unwilling to give in
while there are stories
left untold