The night stretches—
a fabric pulled too thin,
threadbare silence
fraying at the edges.
I lie still,
but the mind does not—
it loops,
it circles,
it whispers
in voices louder than sleep.
The clock ticks,
each second
a small betrayal.
Shadows rearrange themselves
into questions
I cannot answer.
I count the spaces
between heartbeats,
between breaths,
between dreams that never come.
And yet,
when dawn arrives,
it finds me—
not rested,
but surviving,
still searching
for a place
to rest my weight
inside the dark.
Therapy Bits 
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