Poem. again.

Why does this haunt me,
These whispered words, these lies,
In the dark when I can't see,
Everything spins and dies,

Do I face it?
Do I move on?
I cannot sit,
Until its presence is gone,

These whispers of thought,
These destroying lies,
Though I seek them naught,
They still haunt me with their cries,

I want to escape,
From what lies behind my eyes,
Why do I stay molded in this shape,
Where a mistake means my heart dies,

How do I run?
How do I fight?
Behind the clouds there's no sun,
Just more darkness, no light,

I hate being here,
In the world that is not mine,
Though I long for it when it is near,
It is not who I am, not my emblem or sign,

Flee from the darkness,
But where will I hide,
In the light? I'll be found with my mess,
I'm stuck, no matter which side,

Freedom I've found,
Isn't the absence of this curse,
But when the action is bound,
That would have me in hearse,