Why must you always rear your ugly head when I want to see it the least?
And why must you be the beast that I have no control over and dread?
Why is it that every time I lay down my head you creep in to disrupt my sleep?
And why do you keep waiting for me to fall?
Don’t you know anything at all?
That you do not need to keep on eye on me,
Because it is plain to see,
That I will always be in your clutch,
And that quite often it is all too much,
Or pretend is not sitting there on a proverbial plate,
For my consumption or denial every day,
Crushing any words that I might say,
To deny this fear,
Yet this thing I hold near,
This thing that exists,
And something that I doubt I would ever miss,
If it finally did leave me in peace,
Or at the very least,
Allowed me to call it by its name: