Reading by gaslight (Remastered)

I'm tired. tired pain tired of my brain tired of thinking myself insane. it's not me, not inside my brain it's the light, the light from outside the one that's so bright it's just not a delight. i wake up and feel the need to fight for that light gives me a plight. when it glows i cannot flow into the stream of unconsciousness. I'd rather go flow in the river of styx than gaslit like I'm the one who left the light of plight gleaming in the night to make bitterness and borderless the night into morning. so yes again. another night into day lost along the way, another dark sky bright and no sleep tonight. i ask for the darkness temporary and the light answers with more permanent solutions. fixes for less pain, more ink. less interaction, more ink. less love. less think. Arms are overrated, as is the comforting touch they used to provide, now a prescription fee to be. Free to run and hide but you can't hide from those floppy pain sticks that moved with your stride. Your arms deny what your mind can find when the signals they fall behind. The muscles that acted as tendons can't hold their own weight and I feel them melting. And all i can do is sit here lamenting. As my relationships keep dementing i feel my life disconnecting, the stream of consciousness polluted like a river through the sinner. I know this may not seem a vent but it's all i can do to not lament s these things that i can only forget. Every new day through seems the same wake up angry and I'm pain be it mental or physical all the same. These things make me take the blame. And yes I'm angry all the same, angry I exist angry to persist even through all this disdain. Can't you see didn't you feel the pain? Or is it invalid because this invalid is simply the same. You never wanted me here my dear, only one your great my stability you held near now gone and less lucid now i see it clear. I'm an empty tear, no salt no water, only fear. And still all i want is to have you near.