Why?

Why do I do this to me?

My actions; moral bigotries,

None of my words are ringing true,

There's no control when it's with you,

Different, subtle, but no more wise,

Hidden within sulking eyes,

A smirk, a laugh, a tried excuse,

For letting demons running loose,

On my conscious, little pride,

Rotting feelings stuck inside,

As I lean back and close my eyes,

I mutter one words, hoarse: "Why?"