End It All

My mind is a prison,
thoughts bounce and echo off walls.
The colors are too loud.
Frequent grips of my hands
in desperation for escape.

There is a constant film playing
in my mind of chaos.
The scene as same as I.
Yet, the person across always changes.
Trying to close out the vividness
to a dull static of thought.

Everything hits me full force
like a freight train with no brakes.
The sounds, the colors,
the realization that I haven't escaped.
I haven't even moved a muscle.
Am I choosing to stand in
the way of utter destruction?

Pushing and rolling me over,
my limbs separate with a tight pull.
Feeling the blood drain from
my eyes, my ears, my once
whole and deceived body.
A bright light slams down on reality.

Am I choosing one or the other?
I don't want either one to feel
the pain I consume each time.
It drags me violently away
into the screaming silence of Hell.

My choice is simple,
I'd rather stand in front of the train.