Every day I wake up,
I want my eyes to go shut,
The sun burns through my thin eyelids,
It hurts them even through the core of my iris.
Why is it that I'm still living?
What is the purpose of my very being?
I have nothing to grasp, nothing to hold
At least I have this darkness, so eager, so bold.
I finish this poem,
Just like how I came,
I'll force them shut on my own,
My eyes so fierce, so untame.
