I don’t have to be here.
I am nothing.
Where’s the glory in what I’m doing,
When nothing really matters?
I’m about to have a mental breakdown,
Because I’m broken, alone and afraid.
What’s the point in sticking around,
When life is nothing but a mirage?
If I lie awake long enough,
Maybe this dream will end.
But who’s to say,
When nothing’s left—that all of this is for something?
There are tears welling up from within,
And a death wish that simply will not pass.
I don’t need to make sense of a senseless reality,
Where no one seems to care about anything worth living for.
There are times I wish it would be done for me.
Taken before my very eyes,
As I rise above,
Away from here.