Why am I still here.
Why am I still conscious.
Why am I still breathing.
Why do my lungs still fill with air and my heart fill my veins with blood.
Why can I still taste the regret of last night in my mouth.
Why can I still feel the disappointment in myself.
Why can I still see the monster I have become.
Why am I still alive.
Why am I still a walking corpse of a boy who used to be happy.
Why do I continue to live each day knowing I didn't want it to come.
Why am I disappointed each morning when I wake up.
Why.
Please tell me why.
YOU ARE READING
To the Moon and Back
PoetryPoems and short stories and stuff I honestly can't write why are you reading this
