All I do is sleep and cry
My bed has become the quicksand I feared when I was younger
The sinking pit hidden behind bushes deep in the woods that
****** you in before you could scream for help
My blankets wrap around me and constrict
A boa prepping me to be its snack
An ocean of fabric that refuses to let me swim
I sink in, I cant move, I cry.
The tears fall down my face as if they are lubrication
To help me out of the tangled web of black and white flowers
Covering my sheets
As if to try to coax me out from my hiding place,
My hole,
My life.  
And I cry a lot.  
I cry until my eyes are the size of golf *****,
Until the elephant in my room is now sitting on my chest
And I cant breathe
And I gasp through the tears
And I want to die.  
I will take anything over this pain in my chest,
This shaking in my hands,
These wild and manic thoughts that make me feel like
I've finally, completely broken.  
Gone off of the deep end,
Right into the hands of the quicksand that is my bed.  
The quicksand that is not hidden in some woods
But is right in my living room,
Right in front of my front door,
So easy to fall into,
So easy to succumb to,
So easy to die there.  
If i wanted to.