I guess it's really true;
my pride, my fears, my muse -
hopelessly devoted to,
I guess I've learned to love you.

The darkness has never left me,
the shadows come out and tease me.
The hurt, the dismay it lingers
from the inside of my stomach to my fingers.

We are so intimate, dismay and I.
The darkness knows all my fears,
my secrets, and why I'm so shy.

It makes me feel safe
in bed, alone,
but yet makes me scream out cries
when reality is read on my phone.

I hate my despair,
I hate the dark,
but I've learned to love it
from the start.