I am sad and tired with nothing else to give.
My pain gives way to grief.
The problem is I lost no one.

The only dead thing Is my soul.
But my heart still works.
It feels the emotions I don't want to feel.
But ignores the hardness I want.

I want to be a rock, to feel nothing.
No love, so no pain.
No happiness, so no sadness.
But fate has other plans and he's a bastard.
His plans makes me sick.
I'm his joke,he laughs and plays
with my life,
At any moment he desires.

I have no comforter except myself and I'm bad at comforting.
I have no thoughts of suicide,
And that makes it worse.
Suicide is an escape,but I don't want it.
So I'm stuck in a prison of fate's making,
And I can't escape it.
God help me.