I am weak.
The dead poke fun at me,
Every time I try to envision them,
Which would be every week.
I am stolen.
Because you can tell me you love me
And I will tell you why you don’t,
And you can tell me why you don’t
And I will agree with you.
Is this what they meant by “life”?
Is this what my parents wanted when they had me?
You can tell me I am young but that doesn’t make me.
My mom thinks everyone is just surviving,
She thinks this is surviving.
I am not.
I am not strong,
Because every time something always goes wrong,
I want to **** myself but I can’t,
Because they believe the pain does not last.
But it does.

I don’t ask why I am not enough for you,
I just focus on how I am not enough for you,
Or anyone,
Because I am stuck in between metal bars,
Always feeling like the heat is too strong in the summer,
Always feeling like something is trying to **** me.
I don’t ask why I am here,
I just focus on how there aren’t any set reasons,
But I never really ask for a reason why.

A reason why I am not okay?
I am prisoner to the peaks of life I cannot control,
Prisoner to the human body, to its brain.
And how who I am and who I want to be cannot connect.
I am prisoner because life is not what it seemed,
And I had no way of knowing.
I am prisoner because I never asked to be here, did I?

My morbidness hides nothing at stake,
Because I still wake up each morning,
To a world that feels like it is moving in slow motion,
To a life that doesn’t feel like my own.
My morbidness does not mean I am going to die,
Because not all of us have the strength,
Not all of us want to have to do it ourselves.

And I have my selves,
Because they are all hopeless yet laughing,
Breathing yet dying,
But it isn’t anything you’d want to see.

You’d want to believe I am surviving not suffering,
Because that’s what allows you to tell me
I have purpose in being here.
That is what allows you to think things will get better for me,
Whether or not they will. (They won’t).
That is what allows you to still love me,
Because I am not totally gone when I am.

But if love could save anyone,
There wouldn’t be a broken me,

There would be no such thing.