Why is it so hard for me to be happy?
Did I do cruel? Did I break what shouldn't have been touched?
Is my suffering the price of my later life? Is my misery something that feeds the hungry?
I'm done with trying, this overwhelming sense of gloom fills up this empty shell called my body
I look at this shell, I can't identify with it, I want to hammer it down, crack it and shatter it
Shatter it so that my already broken minds shards will turn into smaller shards
Noone can put me back together, I want to be unable to put myself back together as well
The embrace of darkness feels so humble, sharing it's comfort to me
But in exchange it takes my shoulders, this heavy weight on my heart that I can't bear
I cry but I'm not seen
I hurt but I don't weep
I listen and I don't speak
I speak and I rarely breath
Yet still it's too much for you
Don't you think it's too much for me?
I'm dying down here, I'm crumbling beyond repair
And you relate to me?
Everyone's the same
Always meddle with their fingers and act like they care when it benefits them
I benefit noone
I dont benefit myself
The only beneficial thing to them would be my hollow shell
I'm tired
I'm tired
And... Yet I still stand

Sigh*
Dramatic fall as a sign of frustration*