Sorry; Just another thought, not a poem

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I told you I was exhausted.
You suggested I sleep more,
To which I replied I sleep for hours and still don't feel okay.

"Sounds like depression" you said
To which I disagreed.

You sifted through causes but found none,
And laying here I've figured it out.

I sleep but not really.

I fall asleep each night with my heart in my throat, fluttering like I swallowed a frantic bird.

Because I left my sound on
And I'm waiting for you to call,
But as time drags on I slow my breaths and coax my frantic bird of a heart back into its cage.

And that bird doesn't sing
Neither does my phone.

I'm learning to fall asleep alone.

And the silence is exhausting.


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