Sometimes when I'm so upset with myself

I'll sort through the never-ending highway in my head

I've been sorting for almost three hours

And I'm still awake

I'm so tired yet not at the same time

My limbs have been twisted out of sorts

Just trying to settle down for the night

But the silence is so loud and I feel like I'm going to throw up

All day I've wanted to let out a good cry

Let the hormones balance themselves out

But without a dramatic surge of hormones

I can't seem to remember how

The well has run itself dry

And the twisting turmoil in my stomach

Brews nausea in the worst places

My sides and shoulders sore from laying on one side to another

I read and listen to music in an attempt to water my eyes

However I don't get much to rise near my eyelids

And I'm still awake

And I'm still sorting

And I'm still listening to the roar of mental traffic