The Hell I have Made

I love this. I look in the mirror and there is a smile on my face. The part of me who is like everyone else, normal people. That part is shocked and appalled by what it sees, but it is a long ways away. Too far to be heard. I feel the chill of Kanye's winter looking at Black Keys' girl. Santi's superman cannot save me. I won't allow it. It's so clear now. I must have relished in the prison I locked myself in. She did not do this to me, I did. I merely gave her the key. People were right, too right. Now I embrace the navy. Black doesn't feel right, too dark. Besides, I like navy. Dark but mine. The heat of my heart brightens the black to navy. I revel and delight in my navy blue hell as it burns me so hot, so cold. Why should I not want this! I built the tower which I oversaw my dreams that I painted off in the distance. I got too close to the edge, wanting to grasp it all. Falling was scary but now fun. Sadness shouldn't be this fun, this delicious. I almost yearn for more fuel so that my foolish, youthful, naive heart will use it to destroy me. However, I am a survivor in spite of myself. My heart will torture me, burn me with fire, and make me wish for death or rather ending. Don't worry, I'm not suicidal nor could I be, at least physically. The steel and living maze that is my foolish mind must aim to remake me. Into what, I cannot say. It does not matter right now. I let her in and abandoned all logic and reason. Pain is not this sweet. Whatever this is, I deserve it; although, the effects are not all as intended. Freezing on the outside, burning on the inside. Being lost with no way out is fun. The more I search for an exit, the hard it hurts. Why should I expect things to make sense in a world that strives to do anything but? Engage and become one with the rush.