Poetry

At home I always,
Feel alone.
No one there,
Just me on my own.

Always crying,
Myself to sleep.
Drowning in pain,
That is always deep.

The smile I wear,
Is only a shell.
Behind the mask,
I'm living in hell.

My parents sure as hell,
Don't care.
Like it matters,
Because they're never there.

My friends they care,
But they'll never see.
The dying girl,
Inside of me.

My life doesn't matter,
Because I'm always wrong.
No matter how hard I try,
I'll never be strong.

Acting all the time,
Like I'm okay.
Is killing me slowly,
More and more each day.

In truth I don't know,
How much longer I'll last.
Or if my pain,
Will ever pass.

I just know,
I'm dying inside.
And every day,
It's getting harder to hide.

People always say,
I'm perfect and sweet.
But to me,
Even that is an impossible feat.

I'm sorry the life that I live,
Is a lie.
And I feel the only wat to fix it,
Is to die.

I haven't come to that point yet,
Because I'm looking for truth.
Something good inside of me,
Just a bit of proof.

But everything I care about,
Has been taken away.
So what's the point of living,
If there's no reason to stay?

I'm tired of acting,
Like the pain is not there.
It hurts too much,
And nobody cares.

Tell me why should I live,
If I don't know what for.
What's the point of living,
If you don't want to anymore.