I am still awake at every 3am
Because I get scared of my own imagination
These meds are making me mad
I dreamt the other night of torturing a girl I used to know
I beat her blind with a belt with no control over myself
And I woke up and I saw her face throughout the day
Unable to stop thinking about what I’m turning into
I dreamt the other night of an elaborate funeral
I was the main attraction
Walking up to the open casket
Only to look in and see myself
My mother had dressed me in a skirt I’ve always hated
I dreamt the other night
I was staring death in the face
But really it was just a mirror
Tinged with seven years of bad luck and depression
It has broken me
I can only be found in shards of anxiety
Brush me up from the floor to stop anyone else hurting themselves
Throw me away
Throw me into the sea
And see
How long it takes for glass to turn into sand.