longing for sleep

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
Really short, a bit about anxiety.

Submitted: August 14, 2016

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 14, 2016



I can’t explain this to other people - I just don’t think they would understand. It is so difficult to deal with… so complex and taxing on my mind and body. Yet also so simple. I sometimes wonder why I even felt it. Why was it all such a big deal? Yes… why? Though of course this is hindsight speaking. Not me.

It captures me; paralyzing and twisted. I am rooted to the spot. One second and oh... I can see it clearly: the warm, golden glow filtering through the cold, pale shadows. Yes, a brief lull in the eye of the storm. But sadly it is just so… it flickers once and is then snapped away from view, as the misty shroud of darkness ripples and curls itself around my being once more.

What do I do? Again I sense icy fingers wrapping around my face… clawing and crawling their way into every open crevice. My body shudders. It is not due to the cold. I want to, try to scream - however I am already choking, suffocating... and my cries are swept away like shells on the seashore. Now… nothing. The wounded gazelle is still, its struggle ended as the hunters move in.

I am at peace. No. The veil that covers me feels almost comfortable; protective. Wake up. Something tugs at me, small red strings… but I will them away. Oh how easily is your mind fooled. Milk and honey trickle down my throat as I am caught in the net of sleep.

Sleep? No… not quite. It would be more apt to say I am a comatose patient: a life put on hold, waiting to wake up to the real world.



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