Misery Poem by Rachel Henley

Addicted to misery,
the reality of being hurt,
is a drug to me,
for I know that misery,
is more real,
than the happiness,
we share with fake people
and the fake perfect smiles.

Give me misery in a shot glass,
for it is easier to swallow,
the bitterness gives such a lovely kick,
I care not for happiness,
glass half empty, glass half full,
Me? I would rather no glass at all.

For I find facts and figures,
more comforting to bear,
than the people,
who are not always there.
Misery is consistent in one's heart,
but happiness, happiness itself,
decides when to play it's part.

You cannot rely on someone to make your day,
or someone to make it on time,
somehow, happiness always belongs to someone else,
but misery, oh pure misery, that is always mine.