Life Will Never Be Good.

I'm sorry. 

It's not you. 

It's none of you. 

It's just about everything else. 

I can't figure out who I am. 

I can't fight off the stress

Or sadness.  

I need help. 

But I don't know how to ask,

Or who to ask. 

All I ask for. 

Is for things to be a bit easier,

Or for me to be happier. 

For longer then a day,

Or when I don't have you near.

Would you hate me?

If I had to stick to harming myself just to make it through?

Or to smoke out my lungs till I kill them? 

These are the only ways I know to cope. 

Why is happiness for hard for me to touch? 

Why is the Sun so far away?