Hints of Sanity

My Someplace.

It's cold. Making an appearance, for me, is quite bold. It's dark. Now this, is a journey I wish not to embark. It's disorienting. Sounds, emotions, and ropes of reality whip at me from all sides of this world of my own thinking. It's blinding. All this time here, I'm beginning to lose sight my hope and will yet the wheels keep grinding. It's wet. Here I stand, in a puddle of my own tears, past and present, but I haven't drowned yet. It's me, recalling the times, I was free.

So, your still here? You must have bypassed that thing on the outside, the outer tier.

It's not me. It smiles, it laughs, it roams free.
It's a mask. There to deter the more observant, and until you, completed its task. It's fake. Immune to the tears, while I float in this lake. It's job is to conceal. Meant to hide me, meant to appeal.
It's not real.

Am I real? Very much so.
Sadly, there's no hope, no,
I cant survive out there, I know.

Out There, it's bright. Blinding, I'm not accustomed to the light. It's not the same. That light, will slowly erode me away, and can't be tamed. It's hot. Out there, i burn, until I am nought.

At least Here, i can feel the comfort of my own thoughts.
Who cares they are comprised of hate, misery and fear, all which you've fought.

They are me.
They aren't thee.

But I guess that's the reality of the situation,
I apologize, for i myself have battled with frustration.

I've learned to embrace the cold, to become the darkness,
And to let the shell take over, while I sink into nothingness.