I’d starve but I’m always hungry.
I’d hate if I could learn to stop loving.
I’d cut if my knife was sharp enough.
I’d create if I wasn't being destroyed.
I’d forget if I could look forward.
I’d live my day like my last but I know it isn’t.
I’d make time if I had any.

But I don’t.
And I can’t.
And I won’t.

I’d not have these feelings if I wasn’t so alone.
*But I am.