Misery sleeper

6 July 2007 Bunker, 1.43am
It’s not me
But I do enjoy misery yes.
Every night before I sleep,
I never do quiet time anymore. Well so far.
I would huddle in a pseudo-self pity
I love wallowing in it
Better if I was proven guilty even though I did nothing wrong
This elevates the rush of blood and feelings into an intoxicating slur
Ecstasy I call it
As thoughts go all flurry and blurry.
Till the tingle in my chest
And the lump in my throat
Tears in my eyes and
The firm grip of my hands
Drive through enough blood away from my head and into my body.
Making me sleep easy.

Anyone like this too? Sometimes?