what's the point of fighting for a life that will never fill my hollow bones,
repair my fragile skin,
or pump my lifeless heart?
why do i try so hard to fill this emptiness inside of me with a world that once drained me of everything?
why have i wasted the years away staring at the ground
chasing an impossible reality,
when i should have been looking up at the goodness that was right there all along?
and most importantly,
why do i still let myself be tormented by these voices that tell me that the only way i'll be happy is if i have nothing.
after all, nothing seems to be everything nowadays.