An Off Day

I just feel like taking
My pink-painted fingernails
And shoving them deep into
My eye sockets and shredding
Every bit of flesh they find.
Why does my source of joy
Also fill me with dreaded hate?
I can feel it pulling, tugging,
Pushing everything away;
This is why I'm broken.
This, and everything else.
I call it just an off day,
Shrug and move along.
But meaning has shifted
In every little detail of my day.
The happy times make me question.
A simple color reminds me.
Something I once respected,
Now leaves me filled with disgust.
The past it may be,
But it affects the present.
I find myself keeping out an eye,
One ear pricked,
Auto-tuned to tidbits,
However hard I try to
Block it all out.
Accepted, yes, but I can't
Erase everything from my mind.
I catch myself shaking my head,
As if clearing the cobwebs,
But it alters naught.
The subconscious dream that now
Taunts my waking hours
Is one of my most fearful.
The one where I lose control.
In which I am brought back
By a most unlikely stimulant.
I've been doing better-

At least, until a few days ago.
Today I'm attacked on all sides:
This song, that band-
Even this, my music, my reprieve,
Is forever scarred.
A laugh echoes in my ears,
Refusing to leave me in peace.
Every close of the eyes
Leaves one image to vex me.
Can I even sleep tonight?
Do I even want to?
But to hide in the dark and quiet,
That sounds nice.
If I can shut everything out.
If I can end my off day.