Most people drain me.
And a select few I can chill with forever.
The light calls me.
But darkness has left a mark on me that I don’t even try to break free.
Pain is my heart beat.
And hurt is the blood running through my veins.
I say I am okay.
But deep down my soul cries.
Crying out to something or someone I don’t know.
The say it is a choice.
And maybe I do choose to be this way.
Am I addicted? Or maybe I just might be immune.
I think I am possessed.
It’s dark, and I do feel it eating my soul.
Light aches, yet gives comfort.
But darkness is lustrous.
It leaves me wanting more.
And since it is not fully satisfying,
I run back to fill the void it leaves.
I am walking dead. Trying to feel.
To feel pain, hurt. Finding comfort in my tears.
I heard love was better. And I chased after it.
It was sweet, something new in my veins.
It brought this pain. This new feel.
This longing and emotion.
Love failed.it just made the darkness stronger.
I should have tried spiritual love. But it’s too late.