Dizzy In The Morning

Im hyper today. Not bouncing around, but I feel as if a thousand feet are doing laps around my entire core. My body is screaming to sit up, yet there is not a call on Earth that could make this body rise. I can tell the energy has nowhere to go, but to every point of my being. It might come as a surprise, to feel the life shoot to my brain like a head rush. Im light-headed, high and confused, but still have yet to get up. I somehow manage to fall, fall even lower. I feel the dreadful anxiety surge as the high intensifies, and rational leaves the building. No longer able to see, the effort is used to clear my head of feeling, by pounding it into the suddenly cold ground. Nothing changes until the cold breath I take after, awakens me into a new realm of feeling. The wonder never came as I was left blinded from the start. Tiny invisible particles all working together to stimulate beneath my skin. Tickling me into submission. How cute it was at first, but prolong exposure became torment as it began to feel like insects burrowing deeper and coming up slightly, a feeling akin to twisting a finger in a bullet hole. Having lost my vision, I could not convince myself that the feeling was anything normal, so panic took over. Second by second I tried to breathe to calm my rapid heartbeat. Either an hour later or but a few seconds I was using my nails to peel back the skin, like skinning a tree to check for termites, only my touch would always fail me. 

Momentary peace would find me as the air blew gently on my new wounds. But the fire thereafter convinced me more pain would help. A ludicrous idea, but distraction seems to be the last result in a mind without eyes. I bit softly at first into my right forearm, harder as the feeling of unending worry drowned me. I tasted no blood, not until I stopped after hearing a loud crack. Swallowing shards of teeth, licking the wound to find I had dug to the bone. I felt the pulsating nerves of my teeth scream. I felt them bleed over the already present blood. I could see blood squirting in the pictures my brain made for an easy read on the situation. Gore mess. Going back to lick my wounds like a dog, a broken nail was eagerly flung into the back of my throat. I coughed until my fingers shoved themselves in my throat to retrieve what was once theirs. Tugging on the flesh droplet I proceeded to gag for an unpleasantly long time, until what I assume by the smell, vomit accompanied the nail shortly after. I unleash a powerful shout as discomfort levels rise, only to be greeted with a soft hand with extraordinarily long fingers to caress my exposed torso. I regained my vision and all the wounds I had garnered just moments before turned to scars, scars that ached like no other. I closed my eyes, thankful for the return of my eyesight, but mournful of losing the touch of the Other. What a worthy experience. I think I'll stay in bed next time too.