I know there are nights you awake and the mind with it’s insisted demanding
Just wants to have a chat
With you and your many iterations.
But you want to sleep.
So you throw a plaid clad leg outside the covered fortress.
To cool things down
To calm the voice between your eyes.
It continues to yell, and fight, and scream
It brings up your past guilt.
Brings up future pain
You take a deep breath and hope to inhale those thoughts.
Banish them to the deepest part of you stomach
And you whisper to the empty room
Illuminated with only the light bars formed from the street lamp glowing through the Venetian blinds
That you wished you were tired.
Then you worry about the missiles overseas
You worry about rising sea water and the melting artic ice caps
You worry about the polar bears
Your worry about you boss
About your work
About you kids
About your wife
You worry about your weight and blood pressure
You worry about cholesterol
You worry about the dark spot on you gums just above the second molar.
You worry about money.
About the brakes on you fucking car
About losing your parents
You worry about losing you mind.
You worry about losing time
And then the alarm sounds.
You stand in front of the bathroom mirror and put on your mask for the day.
And move your tired bones out the front door