Crispy shrunken sheets from the laundry
Scattered pillows spotted with tear drops
Hidden streaming tears cutting the face
The cramped leg and full bladder at odds
To move, move on in a disconnected world
It’s a cold, cold bed
A time for rest is a myth
Rest can only come from a settled mind
Counting sheep doesn’t warm the sheets
And no good comes from hope
Categories: identity, mental health, Psychology, women
psychologistmimi 
“Interbeing”
Not in the Dictionary
Yet Never The Less A Way
of Being Connecting to All of
Existence
Moving
Connecting
Co-Creating So Free
Effortless in Ease in Flow
On Task Never Stressing Much
At All or Feeling Anxiety At All So
Are You Getting Sleepy Yet Are
You Getting Sleepy yet
Perhaps my
Words
Will Put You
In A Trance
of Flow And Put You to
Sleep i Will Hope So at Least…
My Mother Had Such a Soothing
Voice This Way So Did my Great
Aunt All Their Words Were Song of Poetry
Oh How i wanted to Put myself to Sleep Then
Those Days When Sleep Was the Difference
Literally
Between
Living Hell
And Nightmares
Greater Than Hell…
And True i Fully Understand
my Privilege of Being Here Now
Able to Relate Hell and Heaven
and the Tween At All iN A “Baptism
of Sleep,” Lullaby, Lullaby, Lullabye,
‘Queensrÿche’ Has “Silent Lucidity” For This True too..:)
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