Zainab

No Rest

I am living a life that’s not mine feel my intolerable flesh raw and vulnerable be paralyzed by dread almost like my hand’s been caught in a cookie jar. My mind wraps the noose around my neck On a constant loop Convoluted thoughts of fictional scenarios With legitimate concerns It wanders from thought to thought Creating and re-creating Countless of scenarios Where I fail Death by a thousand cuts I just want to quiet the noise As the resounding echoes of people’s opinions bounce off the walls as they close in A journey through the hot desert dunes in search of water burdened by the weight of my own delusions in a constant state of flux never at peace consumed by the guilt from a past life. No rest for the wicked No rest for me