Mental Possession

Shadowed figures dance above my bed, cynically taunting what remains of my slow depleting sanity. As if trying to illuminate some sort of tragic omen that hung over my subconscious. One just beyond the reach of full comprehension. They render me paralyzed and weak. Leaving me senseless and lost in a fog of disorientation, as they feed off my hollowed-out existence. They want something from me, but what is unclear. They never speak, they never draw closer, they simply hover along the ceiling in ominous anticipation of an unsavory fate.

Daily paranoia transpires which, only fuels their chaotic appetite for causing destruction and despair. I question truth in reality and how much of that truth is only based off perspective. What is real verses fantasy? And where the line is drawn that distinguishes between these two worlds? The more I question, the faster my energy drains. I become lightheaded and dizzy to the point I can no longer stand. I lay my head down to rest and awake unable to recall any previous thoughts. Restless and anxious I push onward with the day, but an internal heaviness lingers. With no medical reason to explain such mental fatigue, the heaviness intensifies when considering the weighing question of possible insanity. Am I crazy or just tormented by these vast pits of emptiness that consume me?

These nightly phantoms who stalk and plague me would have me believe that this life is meaningless and small. That the world in which we live in is but a mere fragment in the entirety of the universe. I may never discover what these phantoms want but, they remind me that all feelings of loneliness and pain are bred amongst that which is unknown.