Poetry 2

I Like My Room.

I like to think in the night,
I like to harm myself out of spite,
I like to see that bright light,
I like to take flight,
I like to fight,
I like to be right,
I like to write,
Even despite,
The fact I am a failure.
A disgrace to humanity.
Unworthy of any love,
Unfit to be seen.
For I am a grotesque monster,
Unwilling to come out of the darkness.
My room is a cave,
And now, it will be my grave.