Why do i exist
The answer always changes
You were born to be loved
So why don't i love myself?  
Your here for a reason
Can you tell me why or do i just believe i'm meant to be
Why is it that i feel like i Shouldn't exist that i don't feel ok in my own skin that the safest i feel is around no one else
Most days i can't leave my house
i never make a noise when i scream or i cry so much vomiting becomes easy
I'm better off saying i'm fine pretending i'm not hurt
Only to question why am i alive

My rooms a mess and no matter how many times i clean
it ends up the same way over and over again
I could write off my sadness as beautiful torture but my red shot eyes and chapped lips don't seem beautiful my reflection is something i hate and my scars taunt me every single day

If you were to ask me why i'm writing this i couldn't tell you maybe right now i'm to emotional to think
Or prehaps i'm questioning my own sanity

and when i think of him i'm
reminded of the cigarette that hangs loosely in his mouth
his eyes mirror the pain of loss
he whose hair was inked dipped
and his kiss of thorns
pricked my lips every time we kiss after all
he was a man who'd broken himself
and i was nothing more than cement trying to rebuild his walls