Lullaby Charter At night I lay awake on my bed and I more often than not get sea sickness. My bed bobs and sways in the waves of the swirling sea of thoughts pouring from my ears. I bail out the thoughts and anxieties from my head first rather than the vastness surrounding me now in my moonlit room. These ideas and half dreams glittering in the rippling pools of my consciousness I feel in all directions like distant stars in the clear, glossy night sky, reminding me I still don't have my sea legs. Reminding me not even with my regular legs could I stand the burden of my pillow talking to me the entire night. Telling me to close my eyes so I can picture my crush loving me and this too is a subtle reminder that my bed is sinking in the trench of my psyche. My trauma filled, romance starved, sex fiending well of insomnia flooding my room and presumably the world too or what I picture could be beyond these suffocating walls. I toss and turn until my body has contorted into the peace I've been rafting towards. My alarm screams with the sunlight, waking me up to another morning on the dry land of sanity. Hopefully I'll remember an oar for tomorrow night.
Isaac Winstead is a black writer from Ohio hoping to find his footing in one of his few passions. Being an aspiring psychology student Isaac uses poetry to spotlight mental and emotional health. Through his and other’s personal experiences Isaac’s writing seeks to create a safe place where “it’s fine to not be fine.”