Psychosis.

My name does not exist. I'm eighteen. Last year in January, I wasn't psychotic. Two years ago in January, I was. And this year? Well...who knows.
I slept for nearly the entire day. Hours. And once I woke up...all I wanted was to go back to sleep. Not much of a day, I know. Not much of anything. But I was dreaming.
And that was what was important.
I feel strange right now. My body hurts - nothing new. The life of an athlete combines physical fitness with an excruciating amount of exacting muscle soreness. However...that's not what I'm feeling. I'm not sore. I'm in pain. And I don't know why.
I think I am mad again. It's been too long since I last felt this way. Last time...oh, last time was interesting. Last time people died.
They went to sleep...slept for hours...never woke up.
I went to sleep, you know...slept for hours.
Maybe I'm still not awake. You never know. Maybe you'll sleep...sleep for hours. Never wake up.
Or maybe I am still asleep. I'm dreaming of you.