Why Bother

Why Bother

A Poem by Denni
"

Thoughts of an insomniac.

"

I got lost in my head.

It's intricate twists and turns

Memories and thoughts fall

Past.

That nagging voice,

My personal monster.

 

Why bother with it all?

It's not as if you make a

Difference.

Not like you can fit in.

 

What's wrong with you?

What's wrong?

Not a thing, but

At the same time

Everything.

Every little thing

Is wrong.

 

Hide those arms!

Can't let people know.

They would cast you out.

Label you a

Cutter.

A psycho.

You're too warm?

Too bad!

You

Chose this path.

You

Picked up that first blade.

 

No shorts allowed!

They might see the bruises

And think you're

Bat s**t

Crazy!

 

Your clothes are too

Small.

Did you get fatter?

Again?

Pig.

You know you're not allowed to eat.

 

So why bother?

When it becomes

Pointless

Why bother?

So what, they took away

One

Razor?

They never suspected you had

So

Many

More.

 

They're right there!

Go on!

Pick one up!

What about that one?

The stained razor,

Bloody fingerprints decorate the edge.

Or this one?

It's still new enough

To be sharp enough

To cut deep enough.

 

But it's never enough,

Cuts and bruises only

Hurt for such

A short

Time.

 

What's next?

Those pills over there look

Perfect.

But how many?

All?

Half?

How many are a

Guarantee?

 

May as well do it.

Why bother living,

Things never get

Better

They only become

Different.

 

Should you lock the door?

Make sure

No one can save you.

Why would they?

You don't matter to

Them.

Better safe than sorry.

 

Go on, pick up the bottle!

Take two at a time.

Don't stop!

Why are you stopping?

You're giving up

Again,

Aren’t you?

 

You cant do anything right

Why bother?

Worthless.

Useless.

Fat. Ugly. Pointless

Existence.

Waste of

Space.

 

What a fool you are.

© 2011 Denni


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Added on September 19, 2011
Last Updated on September 19, 2011

Author

Denni
Denni

Memphis, TN



About
Meh, well, I'm Denni . ...And my elbow is cold, what did I just put it on? Oh, never mind, it was just a plate. Anyhow, I'm Mitchell, an aspiring artist who -wait, why was there a plate in my bed i.. more..

Writing
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A Chapter by Denni


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