Stream of thoughts.

Shaking,
stained,
aware that this still might not take away the pain.
Scared.
Damn, not this again,
little voice creepying up close,
than further away,
not you again.
Come back,
although you are the reason for my torment,
return,
because without you I am nothing.
Screaming,
"sane"-
tell me solitude,
why did you ever let company
get the best of you?
My hands are grasping,
arms, and
Scratching
Starving.
Sick.
Damn I can't even look in the mirror
to see something
for there is nothing there.
Come back, I don't want to manually
dig you out of my heart again,
because this time they might not make it...
in order to save me.
Wouldn't that be a damn shame?
I see black and white and red and blue
like tears streaming down the face
of a dirty enfant newly born,-
god do I hate you...
I have to allow an interruption of thoughts,
or they might just get lost,
huh?