What it is to burn

It's hard to swallow the bitter taste of misery filling your mouth.
Growing anger, and further disappointment makes your breath catch in your larynx.
Slows the pace and pattern your feet hit the surface.
Your eyes have completely traced the outline of the grim reaper in each floor seeting you stare at. When you look into peoples faces...they're blurred. Distorted and soul-less.
Further withdrawl.
Further abandonment.
A deeper need for escapisms. Anything!
It's hard to see the big picture with so much blind rage.
Losing control, and letting go of what you've held most dear.
Strangely you go into that odd place, you promised to leave behind. A familiar tingle of cold creeps throughout your spine.
A total catatonia occurs within.
Further resentment
Further angst.
A deeper need to be gone like a thief in the night.
This is the great fall.
This is the act of desperation.
Your back has made a mark of permanence in this wall.
Fighting and screaming that...
No one is going to take you alive.
Literally
Fighting for your own right to live.
It's hard with head full of static
Tuned a deaf ear, with no response to outside stimuli whatsoever.
Became a mute. A mere fly on the wall.
So far gone.
Further quiet stares, and distancing yourself from the outsiders.
Further self-conversation and entertainment of yourself.
Further silent solitude in the darkest hours.
A burning deep within the sternum that Sheol itself cannot capacitate.
This is what it is to burn.