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I was so tired that I fell asleep with my jacket and jeans on Fever spiked, woke up at 3 AM sharp Drenched in a cold sweat and clammy to the touch A night terror that returned me to childhood with its hallucinations Starts with the distortion of size through warped dimensions The knowledge required to become a skilled piano player So vast that it expands and fills the room around me I am crushed and suffocated, claustrophobic in the company of giants My thoughts erupt Someone saying something somewhere Shaking, sweating Even silence shouts at me I can’t control anything I watch myself as I move in fast-forward, possessed Voices in my head blast lunatic symphonies Even the air around me swells to dangerous proportions Can’t sit still, dying, I am alone and become a spirit The physical realm long ago abandoned me on a stranger’s doorstep Condemned to be a psychotic loner in a post-apocalyptic world Dead and decayed from nuclear holocaust and I as its final freak Beg for an end to the raving, burning, ringing and crushing forces A phone call is made to my love and reality anchor I stutter through my symptoms, regain some control With her advice I find some calm and sleepwalk downstairs for water The vending machine is deceased for the night No favors Just my luck
0
Jan 25, 2011
Jan 25, 2011 at 9:33 AM UTC
65. Fever 1/25/11
I was so tired that I fell asleep with my jacket and jeans on Fever spiked, woke up at 3 AM sharp Drenched in a cold sweat and clammy to the touch A night terror that returned me to childhood with its hallucinations Starts with the distortion of size through warped dimensions The knowledge required to become a skilled piano player So vast that it expands and fills the room around me I am crushed and suffocated, claustrophobic in the company of giants My thoughts erupt Someone saying something somewhere Shaking, sweating Even silence shouts at me I can’t control anything I watch myself as I move in fast-forward, possessed Voices in my head blast lunatic symphonies Even the air around me swells to dangerous proportions Can’t sit still, dying, I am alone and become a spirit The physical realm long ago abandoned me on a stranger’s doorstep Condemned to be a psychotic loner in a post-apocalyptic world Dead and decayed from nuclear holocaust and I as its final freak Beg for an end to the raving, burning, ringing and crushing forces A phone call is made to my love and reality anchor I stutter through my symptoms, regain some control With her advice I find some calm and sleepwalk downstairs for water The vending machine is deceased for the night No favors Just my luck
Written by
American
Jan 25, 2011
Jan 25, 2011 at 9:33 AM UTC
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