Who I Am

The suicidal silence is so alluring
pulling me from reality
tossing me into the deepness of my dreams
dark and deadly
but free from any confinement.

It's something so familiar
and I don't even realize it
as I'm lulled into familiar territory
and transformed into something which is terrifyingly beautiful.

I love this me,
the one with the tragic backdrop
of depression and all-consuming sadness
that's riddled with crimson blood
which stains all sharp metallic surfaces.

Through all the loneliness
and every wave of defeat and emptiness
it has been the constant on which I depend.

This is the me
and the only me I know
and I'm in love with it.

The dirtiness, the secrecy, and the creativity it has brought me.

I can never be saved from myself
only because I don't want to be
only because
well
because it is me.