Bed of Confusion

I'm stretched out on a bed of confusion
like one of nails,
the weight of every want of mine even,
repelling them which probe.

Dare not toss or turn,
dare not curl up on my side
(though I want to),
I am on my back
and arguing in myself.

One who lies on a bed like this
does it not to rest,
but I am on it to find rest.

I am attached to these wants
as my head is to my body;
which one should I press down?
which part of me is useless?
I am stretched out on a bed of confusion
like one of nails.