I am exhausted but I can’t sleep.
With each passing moment I become more frustrated with my inability to rest. The tossing and turning is only interrupted by exasperated mutterings of “no”. The word slips out as if by its own volition. A side effect of the restless discontent my mind, soul and body is now feeling.
I haven’t written in some time and there’s an underlying current of displeasure that this is the subject I would choose to share after so long. As if it would be more appropriate for me to pen a verse or spew forth a story of sunshine and flowers.
I wonder, how many others are awake at this moment, wondering the same things?