Thoughts
why do I not sleep...
does the sound of my own breath calming
frighten me the unusual
tendrils so small
may you let me tremble timidly at my own thoughts
my keeping me quiet
lifting my eyes awake
stomach filling
mind drilling thoughts
so simple
but leaving me crumpled
hovering over
but not in exploration
in suspension thoughts
why do the come in at such times?
is this their witching hour?
were they sit beside you and whisper of the old days
and ask if you wonder what will be the new
while they question your present
and want reassurance if it was truly a gift
this day that lived for now
why can I not sleep?
my secrets still want their keep...
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