Going mad

It’s crawling under the surface a silent scream that would echo forever if allowed to escape. Clawing its way into damaged lungs, tearing and ripping without much cause or care to the host. A spiral facing down and demanding patient time. Trapped on all sides but the will to fight remains. What does one do when needing a warriors cry to break through, knowing a single uttered word could bring out that last heart aching rattle. Stalemate, unable to move forward no way to go back. Laying down is no option or friend.
So push push towards insanity … Fly little fly, fly bash yourself on the mirror of life. Looks so inviting so clean, though nothing more then a last dance before you perish. True clarity just out of reach, insanity in your lap. Dance puppet dance. What story will unfold when at last your curtains close.