you cannot scratch away the feeling that creeps underneath your skin and your head throbs in place of your heart; your organs are shutting down despite desperate calls for help. you cannot reconfigure the mechanisms when there is none to begin with, sleep is just a blanket to shelter you from the harsh reality that is already pounding at your door, you wish it was the grim reaper. every still minute becomes nerve wrecking but your body still sleeps, stays in a coma you wish you didn’t need to wake up from. time is like quicksand swallowing you whole, the guilt consumes you until there is none of you left – only your mouth spitting apologies, choking on the emotions you let your tongue slip.
you don’t want to feel.
you don’t even want to be.