When you crash, the paranoia seeps in.
You feel things crawling and scratching
at your skin. You're driven to the point
of insanity by your own sadness and
you become maniacal.

You build a wall around your mind,
blocking out any and all things that
made you happy. You start to worry,
constantly, and leave things always to
the deadline. You cut yourself out and
laugh off the worrying approaches
made by your friends.

You become superhuman;
you feel everything multiplied.
You become weak, though, in the
way that it feels as though the whole
world's weight is on your shoulders,
crushing you, and you carry this around
with you. Passing by the world,
unnoticed.

You start to wonder where things went
wrong and how you let this happen to
you and why they happened in the first
place.

After denying them so long, your friends
start to cut you off, using the idea that
you don't want to be in their company
any longer.

You forget about the sweet taste of sleep,
instead abiding to the intoxicating breath
insomnia casts around you. You start to
lose track of days, times passed, floating
by the world and that life you once had
which pulls the nostalgic pieces of your
heart to pieces, leaving you shuddering
and convulsing in the everlasting privacy
of your head.