Undying Pain

Oh the things I would do,
to take a bath in my sins to dwell upon them,
to reconnect with my selfish inner being,
and fake appearance,
to shy to overcome reality's trap,
to be surrounded by my own blood,
to enhance the truth,
why do my sick intentions overpower my knowledge?
am I more wise then this?
as ironic as it is,
pain on pain creates a balance,
a sort of, peace,
a perfect combination for my serenity,
yet it's consequential content overrides it's ability to be pure,
sorrow meets anguish,
what have I done?
I have created a monster,
a beautiful monster,
that hides behind my smile and speaks with tears,
shown by blood,
misunderstood by the world,
only the few who are cursed know of it,
cuts may heal but scars stay forever,
and so will this undying pain.