to completely say that,
i am strong,
would be a lie.

I bask in darkness,
hoping my demons would calm,
and that i wouldn't think of death.

darkness, fear and loneliness,
engulf me wholefully,
and i to submit in ordeal.

must i be like this?
to always seek comfort of blood and pain,
and to make me forget just a bit.

downing pills and alcohols,
taking a long drag of smokey puffs.
what more would pleasure me the thought of being free?

to seek myself in the dumps,
the bathtub that sees me more often than the garden,
to feel completely in a state of trance.

am i to still feel what my demons want?
am i still finding solace in the dark?