Temples feel tight like skin over drums,
rhythmic beat hits, spreads, and makes
veins begin to thrum and meninges hum.
Fingertip pressure eases the pounding,
but that pulse threatens deeper with
hands incapable of working or planning.
Toes start a beat to release energy
that clenches the stomach, the throat,
a diaphragm attempting to breathe easily.
Deep breath brings calm from abdomen deep,
blood warms under sheets and comforters,
tight chest loosens in the lull of sleep.
Eyelids slide downward accepting defeat,
muscles relax, noises become whispers
intensity eases to a resting heartbeat.
How I feel late at night when my biggest accomplishment of the day is watching half a season or more of How I Met Your Mother and writing a poem about how I feel. Also, I don’t like the title but it’s what the poem was describing at first so that’s what it will be for now.
This work by Sarah Holmes is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License