I find comfort in my misery.
There is solace in my cry.
I am kept alive by
the drug that is killing me,
slowly.
This life started wrong.
It was doomed from the start.
And I am walking through,
one step after the other.
Dragging my hollow torso,
asking to be set free.
I am doing everything wrong
like  nothing at all matters.
A part of me, is scared
of the ruins that I create
for the future.
A part of me stares back
with lifeless eyes,
knowing, there is no future.
There is peace in my sadness.
This melancholy,
is where I belong.
I don't want to be
rescued and taken back
to the black abyss of life.
I want to be,
set free. High. High above.
Flying.