THE THEORY OF MY SELF DESTRUCTION

THE THEORY OF MY SELF DESTRUCTION

I so often feel the need to self-destruct,

In manners that only I can conduct,

Pull the pin and watch me explode like a grenade,

It’s when all my senses seem to fade,

The damage is done,

Yet like a frightened child I tend to run,

Run away from the matters at hand,

Too afraid of myself to make a stand,

Diabolical are the thoughts that fill my head,

A madness seemingly always to be fed,

Yet it hungers for more,

Thinking the next will be greater than before,

In a sick way I take pleasure in my self-mutilation,

Always aware of the situation,

My destructive ways have never let me down,

I rely on them especially when I’m lost so that I may be found,

All of us have some sort of deviation I suppose,

Mine being the infliction of pain on myself I so often impose,

Why is it that we are left to such devices?

Regardless as to what the price is,

Why is it that I seek pain as my pleasure?

I guess there’s no way to judge, no way to measure,

There’s one thing I do know for sure,

My disease is self-destruction and I’ve yet to find a cure.

-brad