We all wish to change the past. What if we could?

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If I could, I would change the past
That one mistake, I would make it my last.
I still live in the fear of pain,
And all my efforts end in vain.

I keep fighting the hatred inside
And try to put my thoughts aside;
Enough have I already seen,
But what does it even mean?

The passion that burned dazzling white
Now is nowhere near in sight.
The choking mist blinds my eyes,
For I can't feel virtue or vice.

Deafening screams of my memories persist
And will soon kill me when I fail to resist.
I can only fight for so long
More so when I'm not that strong.

Freedom has been a curse to me
And often led to more scrutiny.
I just want this to end
And I'll take death to be a godsend.

PS: prolly my oldest work...