Why do I do the things I do?
Why do they do the things they do?
Why do people die so young?
Why do people hate?
Why do they love?
Why?! Why?! WHY?!
I have so many questions that start with why, it's scary.
Sometimes it's overwhelming.
Why do I feel like the world is always against me?
Why does everyone seem annoyed with me all the time?
Why do I have to be so loud?
So much self-doubt, and it all starts with a single word.
Why.
Such a scary word.
This word can ask good things.
Can be used for a curious question.
Or a terrifying one.
Like, why did he leave?
Why did I do it?
See?
There is that word again.
I hate that word and all it stands for.
It just seems...
Evil.
Why are they against me?
Why didn't he do anything?
Why did she do it?
Why am I like this sometimes?
....why do I think this stuff...?
YOU ARE READING
Something Immortal
RandomJust a bunch of random poetry i wrote. hopefully it's not too bad. it's just about my life and how i'm feeling. this is a way i like to cope with shit so hope you enjoy my coping mechanism as much as i do.
