Wrote a poem while not being able to sleep. Tried to capture some of that mushy overlapping thinking that goes on when I'm really tired. It's not a great poem, but I'm glad to express something. Figure I'll post it before I overthink.
The last thing I want to do right now is write a poem.
Can't sleep no sleep under the fan's
too cold quilt's too hot and thick
blades keep turning sheet's too thin
five thirty-nine the Y is open
up on yesterday's caffeine
do a treadmill in my blue shorts
driving in a fog and hope
no one hits me
thinking carpet, laminate gotta
fix the kitchen focus on the fog
blurry tiredness baseboards
stainless steel sound of air
but indistinctly sink into a
sinking feeling for the crash.