Bed of nails

Nightmares and sweet dreams
or so it always seems
to be one or the other, no middle ground
they say I'm loud when I sleep, too much sound
but it's just my words I could never say
trying to finally see the light of day
the quiet protest that I'm not a carnival freak
just because I'm always laying on my pain so to speak
my own personal bed of nails
everyone's words cutting like a cat o'nine tails  
leaving me bloody and raw
despite my size, making me feel small
yes this bed used to be my safe haven
where I could soar like the raven
but now it's more of an unyielding cage
where I unleash my rage
guess I should lay back down and feel the prick
maybe letting them in would do the trick