The Internal

It is futile to cling to something so fictitious.
The world fades away.
White.
Bleeds so easily.
Red.
The void set free
As vast as the sky.
Black.
In the agony,
The loneliness,
The hopelessness,
I diminish until I become lost
Even unto all memory
And I wander into oblivion.
Forever I remain in solitude.
The yearning to sleep,
Insomnia clutches me.
Yet
I can only blame myself.
Your ignorance is my bliss.
Even if you are unaware,
I still give you the power, the key that imprisons me.
This ability is captivating.
So return my freedom!
But you have no control.
In reality, neither do I.
You will gradually forget,
But I can never shut you out.
I am locked away in this cage I have crafted for myself.
I chose to stay
So you may remain free,
Unburdened by me.
My conviction is great.
I am so trapped that
Not even my imagination can give me liberty.
In fact the deeper I delve,
The more I sink.
Fragile molten crystals
Flood me like a bursting dam
They bear everything I dare not place on you.
I will suffer this internal hell
And maybe I can be happy to some degree
Even for just a little while…
Instead of not at all.
 
This poem is about: 
Me

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