Daylight tinged
with dusk sliding 
up and over 

Accustomed birds
beginning 
to disappear

All day
I have fought a roiling and 
a burning within

The end of the sun
is a relief
Night will be a balm

unless this continues
through dreams
and emerges at dawn

to drag me into
another day
of wrath and confusion

Although the calls
of my neighbor birds
would normally calm me

I will not lay the burden
of easing me through this
upon them

Instead I will sleep until
the pain has stopped
or at least until

I can stop it myself 
day or night
unassisted and in silence