What's The Point Of Trying

I Sigh Inside, So Exhausted By These Ugly Questions, But When Did A Monster Ever Deserve Its Privacy?

You Might Say That Death Has Relaxed Me.

Once Again The Absurdity Of My Inner Thoughts Overwhelms Me, And I Want To Crawl Out Of My Skin, Escape My Ugly, Awkward Flesh And Be A Skeleton, Naked And Anonymous.

Are My Words Ever Actually Audible, Or Do They Just Echo In My Head While People Stare At Me, Waiting?

We Smile, Because This Is How We Save The World.