Someone I can be?

How could one describe
The burning rage of an unforgettable fate,
The weight of a mental state,
Gripping from somewhere I dream to be equal to.
A voice calling from the depths
Stringing from my soul beyond this mortal plane.
A pressure in my chest,
Burrowed away in the muscles and bones
Of individual thoughts, caught between the fires of reality
And a pain I conjure to help me explain,
To possibly sit, linked
with heartfelt ink of colours,
To paint away this burden,
The way I think I feel.

But the voice lingers.
It cannot seem to rest,
Travelling from my chest and into my larynx
Holding me. Gleaming at the words I wish to speak.
But nothing seems right.
There is no quantifying status that I fail to question,
That racks my heart and soul alike
That gifts me with the ease that is to be understood.
A finish I can sit and endure, to heal from.

I choke on this desire,
Insanity in my demise
Racing from one solo and tune to book-scaped shelves
Pen to pen, but not one breathes.
Not one holds me, takes me by the hand and hugs me
Loves me the way I know I need.
Holding back this pressure that continues to grow
This handpicked haze, pulled from the sky,
Shrouding my view, leaving me blind
Stumbling from point to point, empty with the chaotic sense
That all I am is here.
That there is nothing in this beyond what I can be,
I can genuinely embody,
And still, enjoy losing myself in the act,
Die with something more than the skeleton beneath.

What if there is nothing for me?
Nowhere that I truly belong
Where this pressure can cease and fly away
Struck by an arrow of my once-set demise.
Something to free me that I can move with and breathe.
To continue without the uncomfortable feeling that shapes me
Where my spine can lose its pulsing itch
And my head can soften and quiet,
My legs sit, unbothered and still
In a meadow somewhere,
In the sunshine and the sense of home.
Somewhere where I didn’t have to write as I do,
And I could look myself in the eye
And know exactly what I feel.
A voice,
Stepping forward. Whispering
“I have something for you.”
Just for me.
Something that could fix me
And could you show me what I truly want?
To finally
Set me free.