State of Mind

There is a lot of negativity building inside riding a way of despair and doubt.
When I lay in bed at night, trying to sleep, I can see it all building and I'm afraid it will blow the top of my head off, neatly,
In a way that will only be apparent to me.
As if I will be able to style my hair over the fracture marks and hide the evidence from the world.

Sleep is a gift that cannot be squandered, yet a horror full of chaotic dreams and insufficient rest.
When I close my eyes I can feel blood pulsing through my ears.
It is a side effect; the one-two punch of congestion and exhaustion turns my hearing towards the internal.
The pulse in oddly comforting in it's regularity, a gentle whoosh, whoosh, whoosh I can almost see against my eyelids.
As if the sound releases some of the pressure and I'll be spared the indignity of this blackness.