Dreamer

Every night I lay in bed and weave my dreams, but they never stick.
Every night I dream of fears and foes; being late for meetings and failing algebra tests.
Every night I feel my nerves creeping, crawling, clutching my heart and squeezing it tighter and tighter.
Some nights it shakes me and I cry, I spaz, I freak, I deteriorate, I crumble.
Every morning I hit the snooze button, I turn over and go back to sleep, hoping for sweeter dreams.
Some mornings I dream again, never sweeter, never happier.
Every morning I reach the time that I have to drag myself out of bed,
I shake myself into the realization that my dreams were false.
My nerves fall back into place, I am calm.
Every morning I lay in bed and lay out my day and my tasks.
Every morning I think of what I must do in the day ahead.
I moan and groan and will life to be simpler and calm and care-free.
Every morning I get out of bed dreading life.
Every day I drag myself along, usually forgetting something, stressing about something, holding back tears and fears and feelings.
Every evening I collapse into bed, feeling finally at peace, I can rest, I can forget everything.
Every evening I think of what I have to do tomorrow, and I mourn how quickly sleep passes.
Every night I lay in bed and weave my dreams, but they never stick…