Am I sad?
Am I mad?
Am I frustrated?
Am I lost?
Am I heart broken?
I open my eyes and sit up in my bed
Tears rolling down my face because I want to be dead
WHY AM I HERE!
Do you know?
How do you know your logic makes sense?
Just get over it, life goes on.
That saying is said over and over until we’re gone
Who are you to tell me how to feel and what to do
You’re not my creator
You’re still just a little kid that grew
You’re questioning my life but I’m questioning yours
Things that were once my happiness are all now just closed doors.
How do you know how I feel?
I thought we were all made different
Why do i have to act as if my heart is made of Steele?
Nothing makes sense anymore
The girl I told I’ll risk it all for, walked out on me
That was my heart in human form
For the past few weeks I’ve been in a hailstorm
But keep moving forward right?
That’s just life right?
I’m doing anything and everything to ease the pain
I feel like I’m already flying high and I’m not talking about a plane
My thoughts are getting clogged?
My mouth is getting dry
I start to feel like my body is self destructing while I’m still in it
As if it once belonged to me but I’m no longer a good fit
I get all the good views but i have no control in this cockpit
This has to be a dream right?
It’s no way I threw my whole life away right?
It’s no way I lost my passion for life right?
It’s no way I questions everyone’s existence including mine right?
All these questions no one has an answer
They say give it up to God but I’m still waiting on an answer.
We’re suppose to believe in someone we never seen
I can’t even believe in myself because I obviously think I’m still in a dream
I have no more tears to shed
I have no one to talk to up late nights in the bed
I’ve lost myself
I’ve lost my passion
I’ve lost hope
Why can’t I just be me, why can’t everything just work
Why is my life the same everyday like clock work
Am I real?
I have asked myself that a billion times over the last few weeks.
Just because we have life does that make us real?
Just because it’s a bible out does that make us real?
We all here trying to figure out the same question through the same transactions, dissatisfactions, distractions, and interactions
We’re suppose to be happy?
We’re suppose to find happiness while we’re living in hell
We’re suppose to be happy when people are getting killed everyday?
We’re suppose to be happy when someone you spent years with can walk out on you an instinct right?
Is that your happiness
I know it’s not mine
Feels like blows below the waist line
What’s the point of trying to live a perfect life if you will never be perfect
What’s the point of being myself if being myself will always have me being looked like a suspect
I’m in a world where I will never get respect
This is not happiness, this is not joy, this is a dark hole that sunlight shines into
But I’ll keep trying until my time is due
I have no clue and I feel like my life is starting over
All I know is once I’m dead I’ll be glad I had no do over
By: Miles Berry