Drooping, sore eyelids,
I squint at the white-blue fluff in my arms.
Peering blurrily,
I knock against the morning hours.
Stuck in the pale grey of last night,
The sight of snow gathering tears.

I'm awake-
But it feels like dreaming.
This perpetual state of forced relaxed-alertness,
Dragging my focus to its knees.
Begging, please, please,
I just want to fall asleep.

Nothing can make me less anxious,
One fiery ball of pent up horror.
I'm lost in every fragmented memory,
The floors wiped the ceiling with me.
Can I sleep, think, function, walk.
Can I talk to you, normally?
I've tried so hard,
And then you smile once at me,
And fling a giant wrench in my plans.

A little uptick,
Curved in the corner of your mouth.
It's lightly hidden by your nurtured beard,
Hazelnut-brown and stringy-soft.
My heart thumps, beats again.
It's once, twice, a million times,
Outside the eye of the storm.
As you turn your back to me,
I stare dumbly.
All I can muster,
Is a trembling response,
Thrown entirely off by your gaze.