mirage

This mirage on the horizon has begun to get to me.
This myriad of optical illusion makes my eyes not want to see.
Another year has slipped from my grasp.
The rectangle around my neck quit talking to the clasp
on my necklace, where I once found consolation
for the fact that there was substance to this hesitation.
Nowadays nothing's the same as it was when I became
a human being, but I'm the only one that I can blame.
Some days I feel like it won't take long, or that I'm already insane.
The wailing in my ears matches the sounds of passing trains.
It's a shame we can never go back to the clean slate
where we started this before it was too late
but I'm pretty sure it's way too late now.
This collage of feelings crowds out rational thought
and logic and any sense that I've got.
I'm losing sentience as if it was innocence.
I don't have much to say for my actions in my own defense.
Maybe if I go to bed early I'll wake up with a soul,
or maybe this plague will have time to swall my consciousness whole.
This dislodged piece of my memory won't shake back.
This slice of my spirit can't resist this attack.
I never could seem to develop an immunity
to the onslaught of missed opportunities.
What now? Should I inhale and risk it all
despite the fact that I'm terrified that I'll fall?