Sleep evades me. I find myself lying on top of a mess of pillows and blankets. eyes wide open cigarette in hand. My skin is hot to the touch and my breathing shaky, the ringing in my head joins the internal screaming of my mind in a horrific harmony and the blood in my veins trickles through the gaps sliced across the surface of my skin.
A cool breeze strokes my scorched arms in a welcome embrace, the curtains wave in the wind and I try my best to focus on the sounds of the traffic instead of the screeching cacophony in my head. I push my mind to ground myself, the feeling of floating makes me nauseous, becoming aware of the textures that collide with me and slowing my breathing until the thumping of my heart slowly fades away.
A lighter rests in my left hand, my head rests in my right. The flame flickers a beautiful orange hue as tears fall from my bloodshot eyes. Why won't this torturous feeling desert me like everything else does.