Middle

I cannot sleep.
My dreams are echoes of the past
And every fear I've ever had,
I don't how, or why to breathe,
My arms grow numb across my chest,
Feet twisted, vibrating in spasm
Body spent but for the restless beating of my rambling heart
Weak limbs and soft, useless flesh
Fingers worn to nubs from the toil that was barely worth the pain
Heels cracked and crumbling like asphalt
A dull ache for which there is no cure nor relief

Shadows cast against the wall
Of boxes, books, and other tangles of long abandoned hopes
I'm stuck in here watching them shift and grow long
Like my hair and beard
And fingernails
I'm stuck in here, in this
Stuck awake
Stuck with myself
Inside myself
Inside here
Inside here
Inside here
I cannot sleep inside here

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