Behind Closed Lids

The moment my upper eyelid connects to my lower lid

Is the moment all my thoughts come rushing at me,

Each taking a jab at my brain,

One after the other.

But most of the jabs attack me in the form of a question,

Mostly concerning the reality of my life.

What can I do to help my mother so her wrinkles don’t form any faster?

When will my family step down from running our business?

How much more money do I need to get that pair of shoes? 

I can’t think of answers fast enough before another question pops up.

It’s like a flurry of endlessness in my mind.

Never taking a break or stopping for a respite.

I can feel a headache inching its way towards me.

The thoughts spiral out of hand

And that’s the moment when I disconnect my eyelids,

The questions stopping in mid sentence,

And I’m thrust back into the hustle of my existence.