How could I love you
If still all I ever do
Is always miss you

if life is for the living
as I've heard it said
I hope that life's forgiving
because I often feel so dead

my lungs inflate and deflate
my heart beats in my chest
but locked inside a prison gate
and so deprived of rest

the birds sing their happy tune
but my ears have shut out sound
at night I look out to the moon
when in darkness I am bound

there is no large bolder set on me
just pebbles piled up to sky
from underneath I can't get free
I've no control, my hope's a lie

sometimes I feel everything suffocating
sometimes I feel empty and deserted
I can't decide which and it's frustrating
so I keep my faltering attention diverted

I know I'm not the only one who feels this way
so please tell me, if life is for the living
why do we put ourselves through this every day
if we know being alive is more than just existing?