An Abacus for my Thoughts to Prove That You Can Measure Infinity

These pages are feeling more like a prison to me. I am trapped inside of
them, it's getting harder to breathe. Things are getting harder for me.
This isn't how I thought it would be when I got the degree. Honestly,
got me feeling like a lot of debris. Everyday I am stressing something.
It's hard to keep my head up while I'm stepping forward. In my head, I'm
hearing voices. They're screaming at me to make the choices that I need
to make and create the path that I need to take. At night, I stay
awake. I stay depressed until daybreak. They say that there comes a day
when you don't wake. I can't wait. These little things, they don't even
sadden me anymore. And whether or not I make you mad; it just doesn't
matter anymore. There probably isn't a cure. Tears pour out at the
thought of what we endure. How could I love anymore? I dare not open a
closed door with a heart that remains so sore. I allow these blackened
words to bleed out of me and wish there was a better way. As acid leaks
through the steel battery and enters the mentor's cage; the reminder
never fades.