Impulsivity

In a heavy weighted world, I still feel my brain is detached.
It's flying out there on its own, my limbs are seeking after it.

The heat at night makes me feel insane,
I twitch and turn and I can't get comfortable.
I wake in the morning and feel dense air around me.

The only way to break through the thickness of this world is with a fire, with anger, with impulse.
The train was late, then full, so I waited. No one moved for me so i moved them.
My teeth are hurting. I am grinding down my molars while I stand on the train. And while I sleep.

I laid on the bed half dressed for work. Pressing out small tears like a child trying to get out of school. But I am trying to get out of life. I don't wanna go. I can't handle one more minute alone in front of a computer screen, in front of a blank, white wall, closed in to my little cage all day. Alone here. Awaiting the moment I can leave to grit my teeth home on the train, to go to sleep and grind down my molars in anxious dreams.

The world is too heavy today. And my fire is too low to fight back today. it's heavy, and dark, and pressing me down.