Insomnia

I can't sleep and what I do when I can't sleep...is write.

I am confused and broken and more than a little feral.

Where did it start?  When did it start?  Am I righteous in my anger or just angry?

Is anger my new default?  What about fear?

Where did the capacity for compassion and love go?

Was it stolen?  Am I truly crazy?

At the end of the day, do I  like myself?

I was woken up by a song playing in my head this morning.  I'm smart.  I know the answers to these questions, yet I can't prove it definitively.

In this day and age if there isn't empirical evidence, then there is doubt.




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