Masking

To still

Though I lay in bed,
Wanting somewhere else instead. 
My feet have no rest,
Planted on a single quest. 
My hands they shake,
Whenever I seem to wake. 
Bitten by a wicked thought, 
Horrid things it then brought. 
My eyes do not close, 
Planted there forever froze. 
My ears hear one sound,
A fake heartbeat from the ground. 
My heart is larger yet fading,
As these times continue wading.
Though I lay in bed,
Wanting somewhere else instead. 
I call myself to still.