Sometimes I lay in bed, and whilst I should be sleeping, I can't. I can't. I can't because suddenly I feel as if I can't breathe. I am trapped. Trapped in need. Need to run in the cold, need to feel the icy bite of pain shooting through me as I crawl out of my window to run in a world where I feel everything and nothing at once. A world where the boom of fireworks overwhelms the detriment of the supernova inside of my soul telling me that soon there may be no light left. I want to run into the bitter nothingness that is both everywhere, and nowhere.