Secretly Craving

Yearning for the cool sheets,
   surrounding the mattress worn into my shape,
      I force myself to continue.


Ignoring gravity,
   I remain perpendicular to the floor.
      I stand, I sit, & I struggle to remain alert.


I walk through air,
   objectively normal air,
      measurably fresh air,
         clear air.


But the factually nonresistant air pushes,
   against my whole body as I take each step.
I struggle to walk,
   through neck-high water.


Clouds of emotion contort,
   what my mind knows to be.
Like a dream in which you can't quite awake,
   clarity is there,
      but I can't quite get to it.


I know I'm asleep.
   My emotions protect,
      shut down,
          from too much.


Too much change,
   too much stimulation,
      too much self-expectation,
         and not enough self-forgiveness.


This is human,
   this is now,
      this will not last. 


I struggle to be with my emotions.
Not-so-secretly seeing "being with my emotions" 
   as solution...
      ...not-so-secretly craving rather than being.