I am so sick of living.
What is the point in waking up,
When all you want to do is sleep?

I am so sick of breathing.
Why bother ******* in the putrid air,
If you just want to throw it out?

I am so sick of crying.
What is the point of wiping my eyes
When I know the flood isn't over?

I am so sick of trying.
What is the point of moving
When my limbs ache from my self pain?
I am so sick.