Look, I'm sorry, but the wall is already built. It's concrete brick and thousands of miles thick.
I'm tired of this war so I'll shut myself in a concrete box where no one can hear me anymore. Where my voice still doesn't matter, but at least it won't be ignored. I'm just alone.
You can try to pick your way through, or climb those towering walls to try to get to me, but its pointless. You'll just get bored from exhaustion. Even if you don't it'll take too long.
By the time you've caught up to me the insanity of being alone and broken into a million pieces will have caught up to me. And though my physical body will be there, a waiting shallow husk of lost humanity, my mind and spirit will be gone.
I'm already slipping. My brain's splitting, my stomach feels like it's been torn to shreds and my throat stings like I've been screaming for hours, though I'm silent. I can almost feel it bleeding.
I'm a prince in my tower of hovering depression, so high up in the clouds, I could jump and never reach the ground.
And with that, my soul is at rest with out the broken beating in my chest. I've lost all self control and you just now made it. I've already faded into the back ground, behind the crowd like day into night with darkness surrounding me.
It calms me, sending me deeper into my own personal abyss. Death sings me to sleep with a soothing lullaby, and a simple deadly kiss of a knife, goodnight.
