Egghead

My heart is beating
keeping a pace with the engine
could be the caffeine
the bed of no sleep
but something is lurking behind the door

I can't stop gripping my pen
taking a picture with every blink
anything to stop the coming
but I can't leave well enough alone

there are no tears before death
nothing matches
no room in this bitter hollow for regret
nothing fits
just a rushing fear that can't quite grasp
it's about to hit
as the ground falls up to meet