Don't Ask - Guilty Pleasure

Here I am,
stoned and tired,
stripped of my soul
I lie here.

Forgetting who I was,
losing the battle.

I turn on the TV.
I need to see
someone who has it worse than me.
I want to see you suffer.

Tears of blood
pour from your defiled eyes.
I laugh while you cry.

Run away.
Run away from me, save yourself.

I scream into the wind,
WHO THE HELL AM I?

Don't Ask

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/guilty-pleasure-8/