888 Poem by Ben Akinpelumi

Sitting in a dark room has became a hobby
Sitting all alone in the dark thinking about all my deeds
I feel like cutting myself
I feel like feeding off the hurt to make myself happy
I hate seeing happy people when am dying inside
This dark room is all I know and my favourite place to be

I smell fresh blood rushing of hurt
I get excited from the hurt it makes me happy
Some people find this to be dark but for real though I love being dark
Nobody understand me but myself
The joy I get from watching someone in tears
The thrill of it all its litty

Every scare on my body has a name
Every scare on my wrists gives me the thrill of life
I enjoy cutting myself because it pleases me
I love the thrill of my eyes watching blood drips
My eyes are cold of a viper
My heart doesn't feel anything for anyone
My mind is in a dark room with no glimpse of light
The cold dark room is my holy place
The colour of my eyes in a dark room
The thrill of it all arouses me

DARK ROOM