Existential CrisisA Poem by T. Jay KeighI can feel my head pulsing. The intolerable thuds seem to increase the more and more I think about life. Why am I alive? What purpose do I have when everyone around me is so substantially better? I don't think I'm suicidal. I won't actively seek death. But if I die, I die. Why do I ask why I am I alive? Why not ask instead why am I not dead? What force is keeping me alive? Is it cruel or merciful? Will there come a point where I am happy and then die immediately? Am I scared of happiness? I don't know. Anything. © 2017 T. Jay Keigh |
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Added on April 29, 2017 Last Updated on April 29, 2017 Author
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