My demons

My mind makes up,
Everything I feel,
My emotions run deep,
But they are not real.

I make them up,
To fulfill my empty soul,
Its a lot better,
Then living in abyss, the bottomless hole.

All of my pain,
I could let go,
But I dont,
Because I love my sorrow.

If I let it go,
I would die inside,
But I think that could be better,
Then all the things I hide.

I am psychotic,
I am possessed,
All of the things,
I now confess.

I cant hold on,
I need to let go,
To go to the dark,
To somewhere you dont know.