Wound Up

People ask me at work,

How are you doing?

Of late it’s uniformly been,

“Pretty wound up…”

So much to do.

So much all at once,

And it doesn’t go away,

So SO much,

So much so, I prep then fall into sleep, where I want to be,

Tucked away in slumber,

Not all wound up there,

If only,

If only.

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