Your body gets used to the poison.

A strong crushing feeling on the edge of existence
  Investigating a never-ending black tunnel
A crypt of hopeless souls forever seeking shelter
  Without a lamp to guide their fruitlessness
I see the ghastly faces set upon every person still
  Cold, pale and downtrodden with weight
Devoid of any glow to indicate they are alive
  They are obscure and discarded remains
Theirs is a cell of forgetfulness and tragic pain
  Forever feeling along the walls of torment

I can run
                from
every monster in
my nightmares
                   But
I can't run from
       Me...

I finally understand how much I hate myself

I'm sorry for clinging too tight to the people I love,
I'm sorry for the addiction ruining friendships,
I'm sorry for the people who I hurt inadvertently,
I'm sorry for having my heart continually bleed
I'm sorry my friends can never stay a part of my life,
I'm sorry my mind is a stew of PTSD and abandonment,
I'm sorry my body has felt the blade to ease the pain,
I'm sorry my heart is so shattered I can't love past friends,
I'm sorry I ever trusted certain people not to hurt me,
I'm sorry I've always been alone and don't understand people,
I'm sorry I always talked straight because I hate ******* games,
I'm sorry I either try too hard or give up too easy,
I'm sorry that hope has taken it's leave from me,
I'm sorry that my faith became critically wounded,
I'm sorry that I was a let-down since I was a child,
I'm sorry that family never really felt like family,

I'm sorry for the hurt, the misery, the agony, the pain,
I'm sorry for the things *i can't change...

You could never fathom my heart,
You could never accept my love,
You could never trust me,
You could never love,

So you broke my heart,
Just a splinter at a time,
Everyday another crack,
Because you can't love,

Now I am a bitter man,
Cuz I can't forgive you,
I can never forget you,
& when you left, I died.

Don't worry, love,
I know those gates of stone
stand firmly
to guard the most precious parts
of your soul.

I am not here like the others;
not as a warrior
planning a siege
or a strategist
plotting to knock them down.

I respect your walls too much.

You have fought in more wars
than most;
you have been betrayed by more loves
than most could survive -
your walls are the result
of your scars.

So here I stand before you,
my weapons laid down,
my intentions spread out before the Sun,
with nothing in my hands
but open palms,
asking you
to let me in.

Show me, love,
all those terrible,
beautiful
wild flowers
growing in your garden -
I want to do nothing
but paint them to remember,
and carry their fallen petals
safely in my heart.

Open up to me, please,
my love -
I am already yours.