On Keeping My Eyes Closed

Rest is fleeting.
Hard to find it
In unfamiliar places
Rooms with doll faces
Open windows that make you freezing
When it's not raining
Clocks changing
The sound of ticking
Worry...

My eyes are so heavy but rest doesn't just come
It's not free
I have never been one to relax my shoulders
And unclench my jaw
And fall into something peaceful

It is always marauding
A rampage of fiery images flashing
Some might say it was a bit of bad food
But I know
It is all I shove down all day
While I stare at liquid energy
And scrub out the moldy washer
Thoughts of different pathways and futures
And the past tense of women's rights
And how it all seems to be slipping under something...

I can always find my daughter's stuffed bunny.
It doesn't matter where she leaves it
By the canoe rental
On a grocery store shelf
Under the passenger's seat of the car
Behind the door
Mothers are good at finding things for other people
It's ourselves we're afraid we've lost.