Every little noise breaks my resolve. Every pounding thud inside my head drives me into new fits of anger. I want out.
The blood will still not wash from my hands. It drips slowly down onto my shoes each time I glance down. I’m scrubbing but it’ll never go.
And suddenly it’s there. I’m always awake, but I’m certain I never came here consciously.
And now, all I can do is cry to stop myself from tearing everyone and everything around me apart…