Agitation

This is a ... snippet of writing I suppose? Perhaps a scene?


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    It is late and she is sitting on the bathroom floor. She is holding still, and more than holding still. She is clenching every muscle tight. She is in her underwear and a t-shirt, her ass cold and aching from the tiles. Her knees are drawn to her chin, her back against the wall, eyes open and unfocused.
   Her bones are made of fire and she wants to rip her flesh away. She wants to scrape her knuckles bloody on the wall, to ram sharp objects into her biceps. She wants to sit and burn in the sun she can't see until her skin splits and bubbles. She wants to run until it feels like her ribs will break. She wants to wander the streets crying and clawing at her face. She wants someone to grab a fistful of her hair, bend her over and fuck her. She wants to tear through underbrush until she emerges torn to shreds. She wants her knees scraped, her fingernails torn, face to sting, muscles to ache, teeth knocked loose, and lungs unable to fill.
    If it were food, her stomach would be cramping and her mouth slavering in desire. This need is wrapped tight around her sternum, clenching hard and pressing on her heart.
   Eventually the need passes, as all things do. She is overcome with exhaustion and crawls into bed to sleep fitfully.


   "Sometimes... I feel ...agitated and tense. It keeps me up at night."
    "Yes, sometimes mood swings are unpleasant. Have you tried exercising? Getting more sleep? Eating better?"
   "....I suppose it might be worth trying."