Tumbling over and over
Unsure of which way to turn
There is no distinct direction in which to take
The anxiety cradles me like a swaddled newborn
I'm frustrated by the way it tricks me
Mind and body
Some days I cannot tell dream from reality
Some nights my dreams don't know they are dreams
My dreams are even searching for something
What am I forgetting?
What could I possibly be missing that I need to know?
Too much chaos in my head is leaving me exhausted
Again all I want to do is sleep
Yet, again, sleep has become the enemy
Sleep is where everything comes alive
Where the busy-ness of my life ends and the busy-ness of who I am begins.