The Pyramid

I'm tired of hiding from my mind. It attacks me from the inside and my only defense is to run and find another dark hole to explore. It is like a pyramid, it's mistaken beauty as much the fault of the perceive as the liar, but the explorer is the one in true danger. Every door leads to another dark passageway, and as the torches burn the oxygen hope of an exit becomes more and more distant. The markings are as daunting as the prospect of backtracking, and the ripples a mistake would create will be echoed in eternity.

The air gets thinner and thinner, security becomes the enemy as the memory of the past becomes as imposing as the steps taken forward. The symmetry which was once thought of as a reference point lies more than it should. It's honesty more confusing to the teller than the hearer, and as the goal posts shift the plan to survive depletes fulfilled promises of their worth.

Maybe there is no exit. Maybe I didn't even enter. Maybe this is where everything has ever transpired. This is what I have been relegated to and there is no grace for relief.