in sadness i find my comfort
the familiarity of sorrow keeps me moving
maybe not at quite as fast a pace
but moving nonetheless

in cigarettes i find my comfort
as i light one after another
remembering how you tasted
when we were addicted to us

in the razor i find my comfort
when the sharp steel blade is pressed to my skin
opening, splitting, cutting, bleeding
i say "you deserve this, you deserve all of this"
i drain my wrists of my sorrows

in violence i find my comfort
i cannot allow myself to display weakness
so i turn my pain and anxiety to blind rage
smashing and splintering and screaming
my knuckles ******* hurt but thats okay

in sadness i find my comfort
its the only thing that's stayed
through it all
just me
my cigarettes
my razor
my violence
and my beautiful, wonderful
sadness