Why do my fears get the best of me?
Why when you’re not blind, must you choose not to see?
Why can’t I be who I want to be?
Why must pain restrain me from being free?

You say why. I say why. Perhaps we shouldn’t though cause we say that all the time…

Why am I like this?
Why can’t you hear?
Why when I’m all alone, am I attacked by my fear?
Why don’t you see me, tugging at my sleeves?
Why can’t you hear me as I silently scream?

You ask the question. I say that I’m fine. You won’t ever know….
I lie. I cry. I really want to die.
Even after all this you still ask why?
I’d hate to have to tell you all over again...
....so much for so called ‘friends’.
I love the fact that you have eternity to spend…
forgetting me.