Help me Dear

When sleep does not find me, and you stare me in the eyes, dear anxiety,

Where do I go?

Who do I yell out for?

Who's going to save me from you?

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To Whom it May Concern


You are who's going to save you.

But when you are chained to your bed, and your lungs are filled with smoke, the smoke that makes it hard to breathe, you feel like that's an impossible task.

And you scream.

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And that scream tears your lungs open, it makes a hole so large the smoke flows out, and so does the air. So at last, sleep finds you.

But you are still chained to the bed.

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