The past is a gapping hole.
I had tried to run
But the more I ran the more it haunted me.
I had to get away.

It was like the point of no return.
The deeper I ran the more terrible it grew behind me, the edges yawning at my heels.

The past is a puzzle, like a broken mirror.
As you piece it together, you cut yourself.

The image keeps shifting.
It was like a fatal choice already made.
The depths of my mind were an echo of the past.
I tried to edit it out.
But it just kept on growing.

The darkness inside was like a nightmare, every choice I made went wrong.
When I would wake up the world was a blur.
I didn't understand.

I didn't know how to get rid of the past.
I tried to burn the past
But the fire couldn't burn the past it only made the shadows behind leap higher.

I should have known what it was trying to do.
It was trying to corner me in, like you do to a rat that you want to kill.
It was trying to kill me, with my mind.