The room is full but I am still alone,
deep down inside there is nothing but pain.
On the surface I am fine and immobile,
inside I am broken, weathered ,and torn apart.
Why do I go through the things I do?
Does it really matter in the end ?
Nobody really cares but me anyway.
Ever fill if you weren`t around , you still wouldn`t be missed.
Or am I just to hard on myself?
Are we as human beings ever really satisfied ?
With ourselves or where we are in life ?
The headache returns and my body ashes once again .
Sometimes I wish the thoughts would never even exist.
Just stop all movement and actions , even time.
Start over , maybe but with what I already know.
Or at times just not even be here at all,
as if I never existed in the first place.
Bones popping , joints aching and lacking true sleep.
Do I want a solution or just continue to wallow in my misery?
The sleep I can get when I am died .
Maybe I dont want anyone or myself to actually "fix me" !