The thing is
Will I matter
Even if
No one sees me?

The thing is
Will I be heard
Even if
No one chooses to hear me?

The thing is
If I let myself be drowned
By my own thoughts
Will anyone save me?

I'm sorry
For breaking my promise
Of not hurting myself
Ever again.

I'm so sorry
For being the blade
That cuts through
Myself, bleeding, thoughts whispering

I'm so sorry
For not being
The perfect person
You've always wanted.

And I'm sorry
For existing
If all you ever wanted
Was for me to vanish in the first place.

I'm too tired
Too tired to open my eyes
To a world
Where peace remains an ideology.

I'm too tired
Too tired to argue
And share my opinions
Because I forgot it didn't matter.

I'm too tired
Too tired to walk in a life
Where I constantly battle myself
Myself, and all these wounds and scars.

I'm too tired
Too tired to try and speak up
When people around me tell me my problems are nothing
And I end up melting ever so painfully from the inside.

And I'm too tired
To even wake up and start the day
Despite everything that has happened
Because why would I matter?

What am I
To a million people
Whose names are numbers
Waiting to be counted?

What am I
Other than a mispronounced name
And a character of no value
Who often becomes forgotten?

What am I
Aside from being a drunken thought
Whose name you scream
And whose heart wrenches at your drunken sight?

What am I
When I become frustrated
At how much I love you
But can't find the right words to say?

What am I
To you
When all I've ever been used to being
Is nothing?

No matter the spotlight and attention
Or the sea of applause
Or the congratulations from everyone
You still think I don't matter.

No matter what performance I do
Or show I make
Or the difference it makes
I still do not matter.

No matter
What talent I have
If I wasn't him
I'll never be good enough.