Trying to release me, twist and turn with all my might.
The blanket offers me, some comfort from the cold.
But thoughts are hiding there in the crease and in the fold.
They creep unexpectedly as I lay here on the bed.
Dance round the subconscious and here in my head.
Sometimes I’ll wrestle them and pull them to the floor.
Hoping I can sling them, far out of the door.
But as I try to do this, they often come right out.
Leave me tired and sad and exhausted from the bout.
They are sometimes mixed with anger, so often filled with pain.
So I sit and write them down so they’ll be gone again.
I hope a while later, when my head it starts to reel,
That I can give it time and the space in which to heal.