My messed up sactuary

The hard wall caresses
the back of my head,
my shoulder blades pressed
right up against it,
the room so cold I can see my breath
a whispy mist in the air,
this is where I come
to be swallowed by despair,
to be eaten by hate
and abused by pain,
this room is my sanctuary
my place of peace,
where I can be away
from the world,
where I don't have to obey
the rules of life's game,
I will never be the same.

Because I’m dead.