In Which we Discover Something

The blinking cursor silently mocks.
It strikes two upon the clock.
Oh precious sleep I cannot unlock.
I don't think I'm living.

I don't eat much, but that's okay.
I don't need it anyway.
I ate normally yesterday.
I don't think I'm living.

I have nightmares almost every night.
If I want peace, there'll be a fight.
There's no reason for me to write.
I don't think I'm living.

I stare and stare for hours on end.
It is a most unhealthy trend.
But it's on this that I depend.
I'm sure I'm not living.

I tell counterproductive lies.
My natural instincts I defy.
And here is where I say goodbye.
I think that I am dead.