What’s The Point?

who do i live for?

what can i live for?

what is there to live for?

 

nothing but the few things i love

nothing but the few friends who understand

nothing but the life i can’t stand

 

i’m running out of purpose

i get lucky with what keeps me going

i’m hanging by a thread so close to tearing 

 

i’m so dysfunctional, that no one can handle me anymore

not even a relationship with me can last long

 

i’m just an error, a corrupted piece of garbage

maybe God didn’t make a mistake, but i lived to become one 

 

why must everyone fight against me dying?

what’s so bad? 

you won’t care about it for long

soon you’ll forget

and move on

 

so what’s the point of resisting me dying?

 

i’m doing this earth, God, and you a favor

please accept it, because there is no other option anymore

 

my death is inevitable

it’s a demise im willing to open my arms for

This poem is about: 
Me

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