Gluttonous Aftermath

I wake only to be engulfed by sleep, a decrease in consciousness due to a lack of perceptual awareness.
White lights, bright lights, bright black light engulfs all.
And that’s when my medication starts to kick in; as the hours pass dwindling with time, desires for what I cannot possess haunt me.
Rewind and then fast forward to the present; yet another drink in hand, all ambition gone.
I’m starting to lose my grip, I’m running on empty again but I’ll never learn from its scorn.
There’s dryness in the back of my mouth and in my chest.
I used to feel things, I think.
I drank from a glass that was half empty and I felt guilt for not being entirely whole upon consumption; I never aimed to be full.
I felt guilt for what I had taken, what I had left, and when there was nothing left to take at all.
I’m on an insomniac high that I never want to come down from; reality only brings me further toil, scenes of human passion(s) flickering behind my subconscious, painting my wants vividly.
And sometimes I think it’s better to hold off.
To just close off entirely; shut down for business, no one lives here anymore.
Don’t come again, you’re not welcome.
But my emotions seem to be running rampant run on’s I can’t fix.
I seem to be blinded by the glow of others…and I tried to steal it for myself.
All of the hallucinogens in the world could not confirm the confines of my mind; however I too am confined.