4am

It’s 4am again,

I wish my mind would rest.

My worries replayed, amplified, on repeat, 

our brains remember things, you see. 

Pausing and replaying my worst days,

a highlight reel of mistakes I’ve made. 

Picking the most obscure of times,

projected on loop in the back of my mind, 

featuring the small things,

that don't really bother me,

until they suddenly do.

Each insignificantly significant,

mere paper cuts, 

temporary stinging split skin,

so easily covered with a plaster from the first aid kit,

concealed and hidden, a facade of normality.

But what of hundreds? Thousands? 

Covering my skin in stinging bloody lines, 

pushing just beyond my limits,

until the pain is unbearable. 

Dark thoughts swirling around me,

until I succumb.

I want to scream, 

trapped inside these four walls,

filling each corner up with every word

I leave undeclared. 

Unspoken on a daily basis.

Hidden behind a winning smile and a brave face.