Who Am I? Poem by Maximus D. Redwood

I have to ask my friends who I am.
They'll have a better answer than me because—
Because I don't know who I am.
My self image flickers like a broken light
And the darkness lingers in my chest sometimes.
Who am I?
My emotions flicker back, erratic, calm, angry, sad. It's all sudden!
I bottle them all up until it explodes, the glass of the bottle cutting everyone around me
And myself.
They'll leave me.
My friends will, they will. They hate me, their words about me, all kind are—
Are false! They're lying!
They're going to run away and I'll chase them with their blood stained on me!
It'll be my fault, the light flickered, I put it into a bottle, and that bottle exploded on them!
But they never liked me anyways, right?
Who am I?
Tell me they won't leave, but it's just screaming in a soundproof room hoping someone next door would hear you.
It's in vain.
I will not be convinced, I cannot be convinced, but I keep going to them like a moth attracted to harmful light, expecting something new.
And my lights flicker again, and again, and again.
The darkness fills my chest again, and again, and again.
The bottles get filled and shattered again, and again, and again.
The glass cuts myself and those around me again, and again, and again.
And I chase them all away again, and again, and again.
Who am I?