I do not cherish the time
Between head hitting pillow
And peach-colored sunrise,
When thoughts go rampant
Lay siege to my sanity
And leave me to find
Refuge in tears
Scarring skin
Or retreat in other forms
In fantasy worlds
Of paper and words
Or those of technological origin.

No, this time is not anticipated
But rather, dreaded.
Escape from destructive thought
In a desolate frame of mind
Hinders sleep, that true peace
Which is already so hard to come by
But now is further postponed
Through colorful distractions,
Distractions for the conscious
So it shall postpone its nightly assault
If only for an hour longer.
No true remedy have I yet found
No way to stop this elaborate torture
Which slowly unravels cohesive thought
And ruins reason and logic
And allows one to do such things as
Lay an edge to flesh in vain hope that
Such ache shall drain distress
Or else draw the conscious' attention
From its deliberate onslaught.

Memories
Wonderful when first recorded
Now more painful than mountain's fire
And deadlier still than any weapon
Cycle unendingly through
And desperate tears that beg for mercy get none.
Would I have the choice of a torture more physical
At the hands of infamous interrogators
Who strive to break a person through pain
Or this psychological assailment
That twists loves and hates so they may not be distinguished
And in the early hours of dawn leaves me tangled in bedsheets
Damp pillow testifying to silent sobbing
Mind failing to grasp even the simplest of concepts
And welted arms explaining something more,
I would surely choose
Without delay
The former, for I have no doubt
That I could more easily stand
Methodical burns
Or patient drowning
Than this thing that pushes me to insanity and back
Repetitive cycle
And allows little time for recuperation.