Five Minutes Too Late

Sometimes I have to imagine the closest people to me reaction to my death, in order to feel worthy. Because love always seems to show up Five minutes too late. This time they wouldn't complain about me being lazy. But they'd complain about the silence. Maybe then they will understand my 'laziness' and 'not wanting to'. Maybe they'll realise it wasn't laziness. It was mental exhaustion I never asked for. Because you wouldn't understand anyways. I was waking up already tired, from surviving yesterday. And you thought I wasn't trying. Truth is, I was trying. Trying to stay alive. But too late now.