Turmoil
Wide awake in the middle of the night
Nothing stirs except my fright.
Sweat devours my face
As I hunt for my pill case.
Anxiety is a monster---A savage beast
Who always takes his time to feast.
I cannot find my pill.
I will never feel tranquil.
What is it like to feel right
And not have the inner turmoil bite?
Copyright © Sam Carl | Year Posted 2012
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