i can't describe this feeling

it's like i want to cry for no reason
(though i know i have plenty of them)

and it's 03:29 AM as i write this line,
wondering why i'm so obsessed with time;
but that's what insomnia does, i suppose

counting down the minutes,
like the more i acknowledge time slipping by, the faster it'll go

03:30 AM and i'm wondering
just how many of my poems have late night morning hours in them
and if anyone else finds the nauseating rhythm of
tick-tock's
as tedious as i do.

03:33 AM

sometimes it's not just my insomnia;
sometimes it's me, too

i can't help the way anxiety cripples my bones and
churns my stomach,
the idea of "lost time" haunting me

as if spending hours fretting over it
is somehow less of a loss than sleeping through those hours, blissfully ignorant
to the fear of missing something.

it's a fear that blankets me every other night, making the simple task of
closing my eyes
an impossible mission,
even though i know

i'm missing nothing.

00:36