Never any use trying to sleep.
Too much went wrong, too many lost.
Anxiety over how you could have saved her,
or him, or yourself.
But you didn't.

More hallways to explore, more to endure.
The failures, the small mistakes, anything and everything.
It is too much for now.
There is no rest for mind.

Processing, internalizing, repressing.
Normal to do until wanting to rest.
Then the mind floods.
It floods so you remember.
Remember what you've done.
Remember what you didn't do.

Remember how they suffered?

Now you suffer too.

Guide that inspired this poem: 


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