Middle of the night

I get poetic when I can’t sleep, apparently, so here’s an acrostic poem about anxiety.

Can’t sleep.
Anxious and twitchy.
Not sure what’s going on in my head.
Thinking, thinking. It’s too much, my brain won’t
Shut up.
Lying here but not resting
Every thought,
Every feeling,
Pushing me further from peace.

I’ve been asked a lot lately about what I worry about when I don’t sleep, so I thought I’d record the thoughts that are keeping me awake.

I’ve been awake about two hours, thinking about stuff. First I was distracted by what questions to ask in the author interview I’m arranging with a local author, then my brain spiraled off into gods alone know what world where I completely mess up this freelance writing lark and lose everything. Then I started worrying about paying next month’s bills because no job and no benefits at the moment. The random thought that if there was a fire there are no fire windows in this house appeared and then floated away leaving me worrying about how I would escape in event of a fire. And now I’m anxious because I have to leave the house tomorrow and I can’t sleep and I’m being weird again, and that’s a not good thing I’m told.

None of it makes any sense. Good night, I’m going to try sleeping again.

Published by

R Cawkwell

Hi I'm Rosemarie and I like to write. I write short stories and longer fiction, poetry and occasionally articles. I'm working on quite a few things at the minute and wouldn't mind one day actually getting published in print.

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