I want to do something dangerously impulsive

Impulsive

A monstrous beast

tears into the walls with her

wickedly sharp claws.

She bites and howls loud,

destroying her safe haven

because she feels she

does not deserve to

feel love or comfort, or find

joy in little things.

She scares off her friends

to ensure they are safe, but

it leaves her alone.

Blink?

(blink... blink...) I feel numb.

How does it feel (blink) to die?

Is it the same as

watching (blink) paint dry?

Could you feel them wiggling,

your fingers and toes?

I don't know, I don't--

(blink, blink) waking up... I feel...

I feel. (blink blink blink.)

Feeding

Late night rammblings

I can only overthink.

It's impossible

to find my lost thoughts

in the tangled web of words

spun to entangle

myself and my fear.

The anxiety spider

must be satisfied

at all costs, or else:

even my happiness and

fragile mental health.

I'm slipping, slipping,

until I feel nothing but--

Cold. Hard. Apathy.