What do you do when you can't count sheep
When your mind is wide awake but your body screams for sleep
Time passes slowly, tormenting you with every tick of the clock
Why do I always end up here? Unable to sleep
Always overthinking, anxiety filling my brain with outlandish thoughts
Pushing stress on to my chest pinning me down to this bed
It's hard to breathe
Every breath I take escapes my lungs but I don't have the strength to refill them
I lay in the dark surrounded by my worries and fears
Feeling so small in a world that's thriving, unable to shake the feeling
That to the world I am useless, so insignificant that no one would care about my well-being
Laying here must be a punishment for the wandering mind
What's the point of daydreaming if you can't dream at night
YOU ARE READING
gas station flowers
Poetrycoming of age poetry by a queer young adult writer. navigating relationships and the coming out process. peak inside the mind of a young woman with a mental illness.
