the peruse builds builds around walls the complex frame prefixed on me getting another year older all I fell is just more to shoulder. just dreaming of my final ride in a hearse not as a curse but as a release of constricting walls getting tighter. the world full of space a view I can not seem to face. heading towards a tunnel by my mistakes, what so hilarious I push myself no self no relief from the pain. am I insane to fantasize about my death. so many restless nights how do I see the light at the end of pain, so now I must relive my self of the stress of regret. the ascending celling on top of my dome. trying not to call this pool of misery home. I have to convince myself that the low top is made of glass, mistakes to late to hesitate for a path already walked. no changing what I have done but living what I do next. so take the lessons from the falling shards, even though they leave a deep wound. recover from the pain let the scars heal to brighter horizons stronger the weight I cant forget no matter the regret. to keep a balance between the light and dark in a ark unseen destination to see more positive me from the grip of my own constriction