What is the point of living?
To experience excruciating physical and emotional pain?
To watch your family, friends, and interests slip away?
To see your youth faded into oblivion?
To die?
What is the point of living
When you're already dead inside?
-b.n.
YOU ARE READING
daydreaming | nightthinking
PoetryA collection of my poems. Nothing too special or fancy, just an outlet book. Most of my poems are written out of inspiration from whatever I see throughout my day or a personal post on Tumblr. Others are written out of my raw emotions. So yeah, I ho...
