What If This Is It (Poem)

 

Worth, Value, Cost.

The cost of existing, Feels so high.

I lack the ability to function happily in this society.

I cant really “pay my way”, trained in creation, skilled in feeling.

I compose I produce, I bleed internally, still no-one is hearing me.

 

My art is everything, I am nothing.

Screaming and crying, don’t you see I’m dying.

Dying to feel worth the space, my brokenness wastes.

What if theres no way out, what if this is it?

I live, I lose, I replay my past self, my past life, while I eternally Fade away

 

We all know, I’m not okay

I can tell, you lack, the words to say.

I sense that you want me to be over this,

I feel like your, sick of this me, you want the old me back.

Friend I hate to inform you, that I agree.

Yet it seems, he’s dead and your stuck with me, I’m so very sorry

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