The energy is failing.
I feel like I’m paling…
Into insignificance.
My strength is gone for this.
If only I could get sleep.
Then maybe I’d feel less weak.
Eyes are still burning,
While my mind keeps on churning.
No hands upon the wheel.
This feels like a steal.
But I’m not sure its purpose.
It sure as hell ain’t courteous.
Still shuffle and buckle.
I endlessly chuckle.
Feels like unravelling.
Rather be travelling…
Into REM for respite.
None of this is going right.
Fray and not OK.
Let me drift away.
I feel so roughly crippled.
Carved out by trickles.
They don’t let me get my rest.
It’s tightening up my chest.
Give me a free pass.
Before this turns to trash.
Puts me in the corner.
Madness is a corker.
Carving at my head.
I just want to rest in bed.
Simon A Jackson - Writer 