Stitches

The rooster crowing fills my ears,

in a few more twist and turns daylight
will lit the pavement of a wandering mind. 
But sleep slipped away,  unwilling to look behind,
at dark shadows from last night.

On the ceiling I saw scenes,
familiar faces and dialogues streaming
like a downpour overwhelming sanity,
vanity, drowning with fear, and catching
breath- raise the hand, signal for help

but from what? From unrealities stitched

to fix the holes of an existence, to restrain memories 
from spilling  onto the bed,  disoriented from

restlessness, from the ticks of the clock, 

from yet another morning.