Awake

I have been awake for ten hours.
A period of time
in which nothing really was made.
Solving nothing,
acting on nothing,
speaking little.
Spent over-thinking things,
playing scenes in my head
that deaden the nerves.
Wasted
on unchangeable things
that care little for my well-being,
and even smile a little
when my skin starts to rot.
This morning
I woke up to a sunlit room,
a cloudless sky that mocked and jeered
at the heap in the bed.
Ten hours later
finds me rotten and maddened,
and night presses down on my chest once again
as a reminder of what happens
to those who wake.