excess pressure on the skull

My world is opening up, all of the secrets and hidden half-truths being drawn into the merciless light and exposed to the populace for their cold hard judgements, their ruthless final descision. I woke up one day and the ghosts of my delirious past were knocking at my door, crying shelter from the storm, tattered clothes telling tales of their journeys. I just rented out the very last room, I'm sorry, isn't there anywhere else you can go?
no.
This means we get to stay up all night long, warming by the hearth and exchanging smiles and sorrows of these long years apart. I don't know what to believe anymore, maybe you can help me out, shed a little light on what's true and what's utterly see-thru and false. Two long pulls on the dead man's bones and the dust comes flying at you, all of the stereotypes making their legendary final charge. I don't think that the next wave is going home tonight.
Droplets of nostalgia like fed through an iv turning into this flood that I can't stand against and survive. Every breath is chased down and weighted with these chains of joy or anguish the difference is neglible I don't know that I can figure this for the facts the fiction...

Never underestimate the power of a prisoner.