Drumming fingers crack no doors

I got this irritating itch
Up my wrists
Its agony to wait.
Scissors where may you be

I am overtaken by this shakes
My mind promises to break
Knees weak, dizziness spells
Hammer where may you be

I got this jolting pain
In my ears, inside my arms
The room closes down
ON ME

Head banging the wall
Doesn't seem to suffice
To wake me up you need more then a knife
You need more then minding the false step
Tripping, a consumed vice begs no chance
Let's play it smoothly, collapse in the dirt (that you call fucking floor)

Shuffling through life
Yet missing the briefing
We were supposed to sit in silence
I rather spend this last few moments
Enjoying the breeze
Having you tear my heart

Would someone kindly show me how
To carve calmness in my mind
I admit the echo generates doubt
And pause. Consorting with the blurs..
I want to be known past the point of recognizance

I drum my fingers
Up my arms to the very end of that table
Cracking them down as they flow
Like a madman counting the days and hours and the minutes and the lives
He takes with the same ease and he loses count of his path and direction, alike.
As if they were one and the same
Hello, mister clock wise man
Teaching those kids how to be good
Showing the door to those whose standards
fraternize with the demons inside who's head?

I am out on a hunch
I might die tonight
From fear of not trying
From coincidence or predestination
From willingness or a inconsequential push and shove
Awaiting the test results from the morgue
I believe in no ghosts.