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Holding me down
When I wake up in the morning, the pain is at its worst.
I feel these long, thorn like fingers holding me down by the skin and meat of my back. I can feel them spitting acid in my wounds as I try to escape. The alarm tries so hard to pull me from this nightmare, but a hand just slams on the snooze button every time.
I fall back to sleep only because the pain exhausts me back into it. I sleep longer than I want to, despite going to bed early.
Whenever I breath in the morning, it feels as though something is hanging onto my lower ribs. Or trying to get out.
I feel these long, thorn like fingers holding me down by the skin and meat of my back. I can feel them spitting acid in my wounds as I try to escape. The alarm tries so hard to pull me from this nightmare, but a hand just slams on the snooze button every time.
I fall back to sleep only because the pain exhausts me back into it. I sleep longer than I want to, despite going to bed early.
Whenever I breath in the morning, it feels as though something is hanging onto my lower ribs. Or trying to get out.