🦷Not Yet Corpses Still We Rot

Sleepless nights, anxiety, and dread. If it causes all this, what good is my head? To keep me tethered to this side of the plane, or to keep me here where I'm in pain? Regardless of my emotions here I remain, stuck in this cycle and filled with distain, the same routine for days upon days.  Not yet a corpse, but I see little difference. Not yet a corpse, but we share an appearance, expressions the same, glossed over eyes, and sunken in cheeks, it looks as if I hadn't eaten for weeks.  It makes me wonder just a bit ...do I really need it? My head, the one who keeps me here, the one who holds my biggest fears, fears of never doing, lever leaving, never pursuing. If I cut ties, with my body and eyes, would I realise this life was not a prize.