Brains!

At the end of the day,
There it was,
Staring at me, pointing at me, but not jeering,
It sat me down in the rain shadows of
Blank paper stacked to mountainous heights,

Then it bade me rest in a bed of cold sheets,
As I lay awake for years,
It passed its fingers across my brow,
Over and over,
Until I was raw, and my eyes bled.

In the morning, the light trickled in to my cave,
I stared curiously, and even in disbelief of,
The red tissues from the night before,
But it was an illusion.

At twilight, with all its plum light,
There it stood, waiting to walk me home.
Taking my hand gently
Whispering in my ears,
Wrapping its chains around my neck.

This is something i finally squeezed from my brain, i swear it's like pulling teeth. When I try to write poetry, it sounds like pros, when i pros it sounds like poetry. Either way this poem needs serious help, a tentative title will involve the word anxiety, for that is what this poem is about, but i also do not want to place the title at the top. can you put titles at the bottom?