STOP THIS.

I lay in my bed and the shaking starts.
The violent thrashing continues onward throughout the entire night.
The sheets come on and off my body but it isn't me yanking them off.
I am in so much pain that physically it moves me around. I begin to think of you. I picture your face and the convulsions start. I sweat and the air given off from the fan doesn't do much to cool me down. It then stops and I'll yawn. I might get up to go to the restroom. I'll stop myself by rolling off the bed and put my hands in between my knees. I then stand and walk to the kitchen for a glass of water. I think i sometimes fall asleep in the middle of it. When i wake in the morning my back and neck feel sore along with this fucking headache i frequently have. The headache from the fiery pits of hell. It throbs in my forehead and makes my ears feel hot. I get the sudden urge to take a shower. I like to lay down and take a nap. The water is my savior. It keeps the shaking away. The cold tiles under my body are better then the mattress i sleep on. I think of nothing except keeping totally still for fear that any little movement will wake my mind up and let images of you come floating back in. The thrashing scares me. I hide from my bed sometimes. I've taken a liking to the kitchen. I eat one meal a day and that's it. I cant trust my stomach to hold anything down. Especially not during the school days. I roam the hallways with caution. I count the linoleum tiles as i walk. I don't dare to look up. I sometimes stick my tongue out at the school security cameras. I sit in the stall. Not on the shitter but on the floor and brace myself for lunch when I'm forced to see that person. Though your absences kill me i wish they could or would be more frequent. And then i don't. I'm crushed by the way you walk. You walk as if there is nothing on your mind. As if nothing is going on in that head of yours. As if your not even concerned with what your choices do to people. I guess sound crazy. I'm not worried. I'm in distress. Your choice hurts me. When you get close to someone and they fucking spit on you... You remember stuff like that. I'm just sorry she beat me to the punch.

I guess i should go lay down.
Or try to.

No Tylenol around the house.
So the pain is all mine for the feeling.