The concept of death grasps my mind like I am an addict to devastation.
I become lost in the feeling,
and the morbid nature of it all makes my soul change to a deep shade of gray.
Mourning day in and day out takes over my heart.
The happy go lucky me is now off the table.
I like this new version of me,
despite what one would assume.
I am focused on what used to bring me much fear.
It’s as if I am staring the demons in the face and making them submit.
I’ve sunk into a deep psychological break with no hope of an ending.
I am intrigued and amused by this change in me.
The comforting nature of these feelings make it all feel desirable.
My life felt as if it was out of control, spiraling into an abyss,
that I now have taken under my wing and embraced.
I feel the need to establish my importance in this world,
especially toward others.
It feels like a big moment in my life.