Parasite

I can feel it crawling under my skin like a parasite.
I feel it in my legs that ache with the urge to run.
In my hands that clench to keep from lashing out.
In my tongue bitten hard to hold back words I will
Surely regret.

At work I stand at the counter ,
Feet tapping a staccato scream.
Watching the out of state plates go by,
I want to ask them, beg them,
Take me with you?

At the end of my shift,
I wash the filth of truckers, farmers,
Mouthy tourists and dirty money from my chapped hands.
A glance in the mirror shows a haggard face.
Lips settled into an unconscious frown.
Eyes heavy lidded, rimmed with sooty semi circles.
Not enough sleep, never enough sleep.
I am so tired.
This is not what I wanted to be when I grew up.

I feel it in my legs that ache with the urge to run.
In hands that clench to keep from lashing out.
I can feel it crawling under my skin like a parasite…
Discontent.