Love is a horrible mess

Why do I dwell on it so,
When I've never experienced it for myself?

Am I a hack?
A pathetic loser?
A forever sad, lonely little boy with nothing better to do?

Why doesn't anyone care about me,
Praise me,
Give me words of encouragement?

Why must I always be the butt of every joke?
The crack of every whip?

Why must the world see me as a perverse individual,
And assume the worst of my personality?

Am I truly that terrible?

Am I unworthy of sleeping in the dirt amongst the dogs?
Of groveling in the solid waste of the public masses?
Of crying in the privacy of my own heart?

Am I the scum of the earth?

Am I... Hell... Just what am I, anyway??

Do I deserve the right to look upon your face?
Do I reserve the right to breathe the air around you?

Or should I lie in a deep dark pit under six feet of rotting corpses?

Should I disappear from the face of the earth?
Just so you can finally be happy?

Should I wallow in my own filth as the pigs do?
Should I feast from the infested wounds of an animal's carcass?

Am I alive?
Am I breathing?
Is my heart still beating?


Am I dying?
Am I dead?