I lie in my bed its 10 A.M.
My pupils dilate with my sporadic thoughts
The mirror mocks my eyes
I do not recognize the size
My brain speaks
I may die
Drink water and do not close my lids
Two hours later
My palms sweat as my tongue sticks to my mouth
I am further deep in solitude
It is morning of ecstasy
My sheets are wet I may drown
My covers are my snake pit
Head is talking again with two sides
One screaming sleep other yelling die
Three hours later
Sleep a distant friend
Calling again and again
I can not answer
I lie on my back
This is the last time for the rush
The flow to my nose
Hollow as if someone dug inside me
I built a sandcastle and pulled out the sand
Leaving this hole
Not touch, taste, sight
But a grasp with my fingers and tips clear
Signify healthy and a place of surreal being
Alive as each breath fades
The blue paste left in me
Noticing and enduring oxygen to my lungs
My past pumps to my heart
Gone and shooting new blood to my veins
My chest fills with air
Exhaling outward to life
Next day of this strife
Ecstasy is the last drug
To a new ecstasy of me
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