Twitching Legs (Tired Spider)

Imagine a spider,
pinned to the ground
by a cold rubber sole
pushing down,
hard and slow,
insides pressing outward
until an audible burst
liberates all cares
into oblivion.

I feel like that spider
as I curl up under covers,
layers and layers
of oxidized anxiety
pressing against the inside
of the wrong side
of my skull,
no push or pull
about it
as I press down the lids,
squeezing my eyes tight
until all the tired
sprays out of my mind
into the darkness
on the other side,
restless legs
settling still
at last.