Comfort

I found comfort in what could've drove me to my dying bed, When the heaviness felt unbearable, The dark cloud couldn't leave, Everything I touched turning to ashes, I found myself trusting a drug to ease my pain. Bit by bit, I changed, A stranger to myself, I changed, Recognizable? I couldn't. Bit by bit, I developed pains in my body, Painful as they were, I found pleasure, Was it good enough? Felt like it. The only option maybe? Thought so. On every eyes I turned to be a disappointment, Which I was. Yes, I am and was aware. Same eyes which looked to the other direction when I needed them, Left my side when I barely could stand by myself, I found comforting in doing every wrong thing. Was that life? It wasn't, I was hurting and I still am, Lost my signature smile, Infact, I lost the me that can never be found again, With that, I made peace. I am no more coming back, I am now stuck with the strange me. The strange me that I still have to learn to manage, Will I be able to do it? I doubt, At this point, There's nothing I am good at.