I would have given anything for an ambien last night

"As many loops at possible," she whispered.
We were sitting in the waiting room at the hospital, hoping to see her sister's newborn child. She was sewing.
My hands were shaking, and the stitches came out crooked, but she said I did perfect

I was sweating.
It was late and I thought I had been dreaming, but I couldn't sleep
It was a hazy, drug induced dream
Muddled by clouds and glare from an unpresent sun

I was under water, all of a sudden, I guess
But my clothes felt as though they had been soaked forever, like I had grown up there in the lake
Or the sea, I couldn't tell
I held my breath, calm and steady, and found the surface
But I remained, until my heart beat solidified to stone,
And I breached oxygen

That bed was a prison
I couldn't imagine morning through my open blinds
All I can remember is my muscles curling in on themselves and my mind imploding
My body was a black hole I couldn't escape
2 am was eternity that I was slouching towards

She was looming over me, I must have passed out on the couch
She kissed my cheek and dragged me up
Breakfast was ready, she said
There was something across me
The blanket, she had finally finished sewing
Right in the center was the square I had sewn at the hospital
I thought she had thrown it out
As I stared hazily, trying to shake the cobwebs out,
She smiled from the kitchen
"Come on, up you get," she gestured, and disappeared into the light