The Light at the End

I'm walking in a tunnel,

The lights are out, it's dark in here.

Steady footfalls on the pavement,

With each step I take, my thoughts clear.

I know that there is danger,

That I am walking on the rails,

But the only rumbling sound I hear,

Is the hitching sounds of my inhales.

I haven't eaten in 3 days.

I know how this is classified.

But my body feels much more my own,

When I can tell it's ossified.

My body is a canvas,

On which to show my art.

And I'm a shitty painter,

But filled with so much heart.

I can hear my mother's voice

"You know this isn't wise."

The only end I can see to this

Is my enlightenment or demise.

I am fine with either outcome,

I know that sounds bizarre,

But I'm too far gone from where I started

And I'm bleeding far too much to scar.

So I'm walking in a tunnel,

Each step gets much less hesitant.

I don't know where I am going,

The destination's in development.

Even the barren walls seem lavish,

The concrete feels to soft,

I'm just too used to pain to feel,

Too frozen to defrost.

So I continue breathing,

And walking with no vision,

Maybe I'll break free,

Or I'm just asking for collision.

But life is incandescent,

An opulent machine,

Full of buttons, levers, and switches,

I just don't know what they could mean.

But maybe I'm too curious

Too addicted to the chase.

So I just keep on walking,

Through this narrow space.

And maybe there's a little light

Coming from the end,

But who can say if it's a train,

Or a waiting friend.