Flighty
Choppy
Pieces and parts
They never come together
Quite right

Like a puzzle
Missing all of its pieces
Was it even a puzzle to begin with?

You cannot make something
Out of nothing.

Sleep is only a haven
For those having something
To escape in their
Waking hours.

Cold sweat,
Jolting shock
Body wrenching
Soul crying out
For internal relief

The angel holds you
In her tired grip

Half dead
Half awake
Between two worlds
Pick your poison.

Restful restlessness
Peaceful horror
Stable madness

Freedom from all others
Trapped within
One's self.