At some point, I got so used to crying

Too used to crying, I'd cry at least a tiny bit each day

I guess inside, I was dying

And I was never saved

Nowadays, I don't cry so much

But those painful months left its mark

Now my tears seem to be the only thing I trust

Sadness now feels like a heavy but comforting blanket, not like being pierced by a dart

Somehow my sadness became the only thing I could rely on

I feel strangely safe when I cry behind a door with a lock

You can think I'm crazy all you want

But maybe it feels safe to me because when I cry, I'm raw

It's nice to feel like I can pour out the feelings I can't show to anyone else, for they will think I am too flawed

Sometimes I only feel like a masterpiece when I have a broken heart

I wish it wasn't so, but after all the depressing poetry, I consider sadness to be an art

Or maybe I've transformed into a creature who thrives on negative emotions, like a monster in the dark