A Pome a Day for a Year

Burning up, burning out, burning down,
the insides are aflame
and the outsides are the same,
as the innards work to tame
the feelings in my brain.

Pointy, itchy, poky lil neurons
dancing back and forth like disco fiends
under the rhythm of warning lights
making my back a carpet of uncomfortability
as cloth touches skin and fire erupts.

Do I need a cuppa?
Can you please Warren G the incredible whitenoise
calls of nerves that are having a go in my ear,
I am trying to write an email here!