What happened to me?
Once upon a time,
I could call out the black from my soul.
Let the twisted side of my imagination run free.
Tickle the morals of those who want to be tempted.
Where is that now?
What happened to the hollow in me?
Why am I suddenly all filled up?
I close my eyes and I can picture it.
See the shadows of my past,
The monsters under my bed.
But then I open my eyes, and here I am.
Safe and warm in a room that feels like home.
If the luck of my past is an indication of my worth,
Then I don't deserve this.
I've always walked the path of the broken man.
Incomplete.
Isolated.
Misunderstood.
Underestimated.
I'm used to that.
It's an unhappily comfortable place for me.
Sorrow is familiar terrain.
Am I happy?
Is this what it means to be content?
To question all your blessings,
And wait for the bottom to drop out
Just like it always does.
With so little room for improvement in my life,
And all the mountains I've climbed to get to this place,
How far is the drop off?
How high am I?
How high up is that cliff?
How much am I risking in the fall?
Maybe I'm a creature of misery.
Maybe Garbage is right...
I'm only happy when it rains.
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