No Sense Of Me

Why does it matter
Why does it matter that I can’t sleep
Why does it matter that I can’t eat
Why does it matter?
Does it mean I’m less of a human being
If I can’t see what everyone else is seeing
If I can’t breath some nights because I don’t have a purpose
Because I can’t see if this life's even worth it
What am if I’m not a good person
A bad person with a good sense of right and wrong
A good person with no patients to write a song
A kind of bad person but a good sense of wrong and right
Or a good person who ends up starting a fight
Maybe I don’t know how to win a fight
But I do now how to end one
I end one by crying
I end this life fight by dying, I mean we all do
But for me I’m trying
To end it I mean
I guess I’m not what I seem
Half a cliche and half a series a bad days
That's who I really am
That's where I stand
That's what matters right?
Who I want to be seen as, who I want to be even as
People tell me who I can’t be or will never be
Or is who I am who I am perceived to be.
What people see in me
What people think they see at least
Maybe that's why I can’t sleep
Maybe that's why I can’t eat
Because I’m perceived as a being with no sense of me
No sense of right or wrong
No songs
No poetry
Just me.
A sucker for a good state of being
A sucker for a bright sky full of stars
A sucker for purpose
For a reason to live again.

This poem is about: 
Me

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