Knife

Sitting on my couch
Dreading the dance and the show
People don't like me anymore
People never liked me, I believe
And then I asked myself something
I asked myself: "Who are you?"

I was dumbfounded
I cried for I knew I was nowhere
There was nothing to anything
I said this as I looked at my feet
They were resting on the coffee table
Just there
No purpose
I punched the wall in anger
Knowing so well it was me who created the need for purpose
Apathy - one called to me
Numb - I called to me

There was no purpose I said
And then I saw hope
A hope that said
"The purpose of life is to go through it alive."
It sounded simple enough

Went to the kitchen
Found a knife
And punctured my chest
I am dying right now
But if I were to die
I could well say...
Purpose fulfilled.