Come the nothing.

What do you do when the lights get brighter
the music gets louder
another cigarette isn't enough to calm it down
there isn't enough water to quench it's thirst?
My lips go dry and numb
my limbs tingle and go restless uncontrolled
Color and colors of things melt into each other
My peripheral is a bubbling frenzy
the inside of my eyelids is nausea
Everything that is my tangible self hangs on by an invisible thread so distant and imaginary the thought of it brings fear and disbelief.
An abstract connection that defies you to believe in it with it's own breath.
A distant deep buried scream beneath a paper thin piece of glass being held together only by the pressure of the idea that it actually exists.
The hope it does.
The brittle laws of reality so frail can be easily confused with the symptoms of death
As the body attempts regaining equilibrium the mind is turned inside out to compensate before the damage is permanent.
The constant failure to achieve this is perceived as trickery and trust inside and outside of the mind slowly die.
There is no word to describe what happens when the five senses become obsolete.
The people around you become poorly made movies of what you think the people around you should be.
There is nowhere to run
or anyone to run to.
There is nothing and this is it.