insomnia
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In the dead of night, silence dances to the racing of my heart. I sit in my bed illuminated by my lamp’s orange glow. Hours slide past as time stands still- I’m as calm and raging as flickering flame. And I gulp down herbal tea as if it’s the remedy to the manic anxiety in
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I can’t stay asleep. I can’t tell if it’s the dreams, my allergies, or my anxiety that have been causing me to wake in the middle of the night, or if it’s a potent combination of all of the above. The truth is, I think we are all having some anxiety about what is happening
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I don’t consider myself a poet. I used to write a lot of sub-par poetry in high school and in the early years of college, but I grew out of the habit. It wasn’t a loss, more of transition. The style of writing most natural to me is prose, so I focused more on that
Bringing Mae Flowers 