touch-me-not

i'm tired.
all i wanna do is burrow in bed
to sleep, to read.
if sleeping is an escape.
if reading is an escape.
then what am i running from?

am i just going thru a rough patch
or have i finally seen my reflection
and something else stares back?

i strive for perfection.
yet i get discouraged easily.
i have a dead weight in my chest this morning.
breathing round it proves difficult.
i'm like a rubber band stretched taut.
i'm prickly as a porcupine.
i'm sensitive as touch-me-not.
i'm hungry but i cant eat.
my shields are up
and i wanna cry.
what's happening to me?