there is nothing better than silence
where thoughts can be sorted
categorized
labeled
discarded
or dwelled upon

this (functional) anxiety
takes a free ride
over-burdening my back

the weight strains every muscle
I stretch to compensate
but my bones split and crack
quietly anticipating true paralyzation
like a patient waiting
for a root canal

peer inside
observe the chaos
adequate distraction
making sleep achievable
the master of redirection
my fumbling hands reach for
one more drink

second guess
everything

maybe it was better
when nothing mattered
nothing
at all

show me the way
back to that place
where giving a ****
was a lost art