Because, perhaps, with a rhyme scheme, your words will mean something.
Because, perhaps, your words won't fade like the memory of you in a century.
Because everyone listens but doesn't hear at home.
Because no one listens or hears at home.
Because someone you know may read and understand.
Because someone near by may read and love you.
Because someone may care enough to ask.
Because it's the only way you're brave enough to tell.
Because a response may chase away the loneliness for a second.
Because someone may disagree with how little you think of yourself.
Because you can't express what you're feeling.
Because you can't articulate what you aren't feeling.
Because you want to scream.
Because you want to cry.
Because you want to laugh.
Because you want to love and be loved.
Because you want to die.
Because you want to sleep.
Because you're restless.
Because you're listless.
Because you're lost.
Because there's too much order.
Because there's to much chaos.
Because it's cathartic.
Because it's painful.
Because you're lonely.
Because you want a friend.
Because you want ***.
Because you're proud of being broken.
Because you're ashamed of being broken.
Because you're jealous.
Because you're hateful.
Because you hate yourself.

Because there's nothing else you can do.