Why should we live?
To keep you happy;
Or because it will get better?
How can you say that?
When you've never known,
The horrors of blind rage
Or the giving sleeps of depression?
Have you ever felt the scars of self-inflicting wounds crack?
Have you ever opened your heart just once,
And had it broken into a thousand pieces?
Are sleepless nights getting better?
Staying awake because of self-loathing torture?
Does it get better for the ones in the shadows?
Who were only ever told they were nothing,
Until they killed themselves and became something.
A statistic?
Does it get better after you drive the only ones you love out your life?
Even though you need them so much?
Does getting better mean that while your life
Gets blown apart,
You just stand there with indifference?
Are you all so hell-bent on making us better?
That you don't bother to ask what's wrong?
Will it get better for the single parent,
Who was told her baby was killed in spit and hate?
Does it matter much that we're dead inside?
Who knows how much pain and guilt we keep.
Can you make it better for the victim of rape?
Who's innocence will never be there?
Will every stride you make feel like weights are pulling you into the
abyss?
Will you tell us its all better
When you just pray over us?
Do you think we will just trust anyone,
When we can only trust no one?
Will it get better is we're pulled into the light,
When only darkness will protect us?
Do you know what its like to feel alone.
But you're in a crowd?
Does it get better?
After awhile?