Ominous exhastion

There is a tension in this room that I am not able to get rid of, a certain eerie feeling of an ominous end. Like a thick layer of invisible grease it flows through both the room and me. This electricity merges with me, penetrates my skin and shocks me to the core. Oily drops of sex, passion, confusion and pain trickles down my back and leaves viable traces of lust and sin in dried smudges. I slowly move across the room to the bed through the greasy tension wrapping its liquid legs around me, dragging me down. Exhausted I drop to the floor before reaching the bed, panting. I don’t belong here anymore and the tension is telling me to go or get destroyed. I lay still and hope for the darkness and tension to ease up in my pressured heart. Invisible fingers playfully move up my chest, my thighs, my neck, throat, arms… keeping me in place, firmly on my back on the cold floor. The electricity shoots through me and the oily drops keeps falling. These walls whisper the language of hidden emotions and they whisper everything to me. I shouldn’t stay but have no idea where else to go. Am I trapped? Is this invisible, thick darkness here to stay until I finally either let it have me or gather courage enough to go?
For now the tension keeps building to its final crescendo.