I’ve come to terms with it
I don’t meet the standards
I cannot even speak to beauty
probably because I shouldn’t
why waste your time with mine…
I don’t know much about life…
but I don’t value my own
I don’t even want to create life
I don’t even want to be alive
but I am… I don’t know why
I don’t know why God
why do you keep me alive…
there are tears coming down
as I type
what type am I for you?
am I just a tool
am I just a body
am I just a mind
a man
that’s manipulated
conditioned and controlled
I don’t know how to keep living
maybe just be satisfied
being in a cycle of pain…
I thank you God
for at least pain
for all things with pleasure