Why do I think that I'm ugly?
Why do I smoke?
Why can't I accept success for what
it is than perceiving it as the enemy?
Why can't I love?
Why do I feel like nobody loves me?
Why cant I let go of the past?
Why do I hold all of this anger
and bullshit inside?
Why do I believe I have to be disabled
in order to feel or to live?
Why after every thought, I think about
killing somebody, or even myself?
Why is drugs my only reason for relief?
Why do I feel I have to struggle in
order to be a part of the world?
Why am I writing this?
Why am I slowly disowning
everybody that cares?
Why do I hate so got damn much?
Why can't things be f-ing easy?
Why am I friends with depression and death?
Why can't I just find myself and be me??????????????????????
