The Reason For the Pseudonym

A poem about anxiety I sleep therefore I am So I must not be Sleep is for those Undisturbed by themselves See how I am lulled By the demons 'we will wake you' They scream They, them, it, me I don't know what insanity looks like But it might be waking from sleep Screaming Or ill defined sanity Where you are so sane You are forced to endure Life Where you claw To be all the things You thought were meaningful Just to find An empty space You can't inhabit As you haven't given yourself Permission To enjoy Your labours Who are you And why are you in control You make no sense You could be the ABC of it all Swanning about Getting things right You've demonstrated prowess Which you let fall to the floor Everytime To reveal this person Who apologises For their existence Grow up Own something One of those many things You are good at That you let go Just in case You are judged