i just want to be free from the shackles called, "living"

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i don't understand why we live

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i don't know

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i don't know anything

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why must you have given me a life?

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all im going to do is die in the end

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you might as well just take my life already and stick it into someone else who is desperately in need of one

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all i've done in my life is make people smile

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despite my suffering

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something about the ugly, puny smile of a human

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springs joy to my empty and dull hear

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heart

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maybe because their laughing off my pain

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that thought saddens me

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but

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it brings me relief, somehow, that i can deceive others quite well enough

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enough to the point, that it feels like i have some sort of existence

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to keep on going as a monkey in a circus, always pleasing others like a people-pleaser

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that saddens me that i'll never be anything else

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and yet

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it gives me some sort of fake joy in the meantime for some reason

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i can't help but be depressed and al

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all

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i can't really tell if someone's mad at me, or if their pleased by my act

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that i just fake it until they are

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satisfied by their pleasure

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off of my suffering

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but

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i can't help but snap sometimes

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for the thought of them being maddened by me when all i am doing is simply trying my best

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strikes a nerve inside of me

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i can't help but be nasty and break this little clown face that i've carefully pieced together

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and i'm sorry about that

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i don't mean to hurt others

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i don't want to be mean

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i don't want to be seen as a nasty person

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i'm not a monster

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i'm a human

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right?

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aren't i?

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