buried alive

Feeling trapped. Can't breathe. There is 23.2 inches of white blanketed death all around me. I used to hide under my blanket when I was a kid. Nothing but me. Shut the bad out. Now I fear that feeling. Trapped. Alone. Suffocating. Void of feeling. Robotic mannerisms. Cold. Metallic. Sterile. The silence is driving me mad.


waking up from an intense, lucid dream (as i do almost everyday) is quite difficult for me
it can take sometimes 2-3 hours for me to get back to "reality"

most often i sit alone on the couch drinking coffee
staring off in a daze until my subconscious finally lets me go
some days i cannot shake the experience altogether and i am left struggling to put on a
"sane" face for the rest of the day
which is absolutely


sometime, something, someone

when you want something sooooooo bad
you lose all insight on how to attain said something
don't know what to do with myself anymore
is this good/bad ? (what's good or bad anyways?)
consumed with
these thoughts
is sometimes
too much
i find myself
out there somewhere
asking myself
is this even real?
i let go too much
i feel too much
i care too much
out of my body