Every day I go around the world and back
But I never leave my own head.
The thing I fear most,
And my greatest relief,
I'm averse to and crave my own death.

Ants crawling round in a nest of confusion.
Chaos and order;
Messy organization.
Spilling out my ears and onto my lap.
And my heart sinks as I realize I'm almost out of tissues and Raid.

Crisp day, sun shine;
Black death.
Birds chirp, leaves dance;
Despair.
Love blossomed, pleasure realized;
I dig my own grave another foot deeper.

What can stop this incessant ringing?