Clarity

it is late. 
I should sleep and yet my mind races. 
It's like I am caught in the storm. 
My insides twist and turn and yet my heart is the eye of it... 
ever steady my beats are a tempest of time
I feel everything and nothing. 
I wish I could escape and run towards a fantasy life. 
One with tropical beaches and warm misty evenings. 
under a bed covered in a gossamer of fabric and sheen. 
sleep and be at peace. 
Be at one with myself to quell the storm.
I can't do that yet. I have to survive the violence and the chaos
fight the inner workings of my mind in order 
to satiate the destructive force that dwells within me. 
push it back to it's base principle form. 
Brilliant and terrible force. 
I leave nothing in my wake but a wanton soul, 
weary from sleep deprivation and worry. 
The storm leaves nothing in it's wake. 

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