Most people drain me.

And a select few I can chill with forever.

The light calls me.

But darkness has left a mark on me that I don’t even try to break free.

Pain is my heart beat.

And hurt is the blood running through my veins.

I say I am okay.

But deep down my soul cries.

Crying out to something or someone I don’t know.

The say it is a choice.

And maybe I do choose to be this way.

Am I addicted? Or maybe I just might be immune.

I think I am possessed.

It’s dark, and I do feel it eating my soul.

Light aches, yet gives comfort.

But darkness is lustrous.

It leaves me wanting more.

And since it is not fully satisfying,

I run back to fill the void it leaves.

I am walking dead. Trying to feel.

To feel pain, hurt. Finding comfort in my tears.

I heard love was better. And I chased after it.

It was sweet, something new in my veins.

It brought this pain. This new feel.

This longing and emotion.

Love failed.it just made the darkness stronger.

I should have tried spiritual love. But it’s too late.



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