Beeping reminder of a life to live,
relentless, hit snooze, repeat.
It can't be time to face it all,
I've just wound down, switched off,
somehow.

Self-destruction at its finest,
knowing I'll suffer by laying longer,
eventually leap out of bed, panic,
dread, thoughts of
I'm going to be late,
running through my head.

Scenarios playing like
some cheap B movie,
over and over,
I'm going to be late.
Slow motion movements,
stomach churning sensations,
Good Morning.

Drive to work like a bat out of hell,
my hell,
my eternal hell,
not late yet feel destined to be.
I'm going to be late.
Disappointed stares, disapproving looks,
only they come from
within.

To the onlooker, coping, thriving,
succeeding,
couldn't possibly be drowning or
needing.
Caught up in the frenzy that's just
operating,
manage to make it till the finish,
still breathing.

Drive home feeling almost on top,
then decide to reflect,
analyse, can't stop.
Did I really say that?
What the hell, was I thinking?
Oh god, I forgot (insert any task here),
stomach now sinking.

Successful day now just another reminder,
of self-sabotage,
daily grinder.
Won't stop there as the evening
progresses,
mutates and multiplies into
tangible stresses.

Head lays on pillow,
conscious laughs at my
ambition,
of sleeping now, without a
barrage of doubts.
Calm on the outside,
internally shouts.

Exhausted pleas at 3am,
need to sleep or I'll be late
again.
Nothing left to reflect on so
imagination kicks in.
What else could possibly go wrong?
A challenge?
Go on then.

Beeping reminder of a life to live,
relentless, hit snooze, repeat,
it can't be time to face it all,
I've just wound down, switched off,
somehow.