I sing at 1am

I have to be at work 

at 9:30 in the morning.

 

I retire at midnight,

to prepare for the anxieties,

to come into the head-space,

to become the other person

that I can safely be

for myself, by myself,

to myself, so I can sleep.

I sing at 1am

to fill the silent air,

to calm my anxiety,

to become another person,

so I don't have to wonder

if something will catch fire,

if someone's about to die.

I play at 2am,

to fill the silent air,

to calm my anxiety,

to forget for a while,

of the person I have to be,

and become the person,

the part of me,

that has to always hide.

I turn at 3am,

to try and fall asleep,

but there's always anxieties,

and always who I have to be,

I could be, I should be,

what I could have said, 

would have said, should have said,

what I have done,

what I haven't done, what could be, would be,

should be done.

Things I can not change nor control,

things that are inevitable and set,

things that cause an very irrational

amount of fret.

Before I know it,

my thoughts are of simpler things,

my body becomes heavy,

and I imagine arms around me

as I finally am ready to lull myself to sleep.

 

I'm asleep at 4am.

Finally.

Alarm set for quarter 'til 9.

I'm awake at 7am,

unable to return to sleep.

 -LJ

27 November 2017