It would be a waste of life.
But I'm already such a waste of life.
Falling endlessly through the cracks.
I need time to put the pieces back.
A luxury not afforded; my life won't be sorted.
All I can do is wait for the end and waste my chance.

What is there to do when you don't feel a thing? Where can I turn when I mean nothing?
I seemingly have no place to go. I've never been somewhere I felt at home.
I'm just a ghost floating through this life.
Holding onto anything that helps me feel alive.
Surviving, never thriving. I need to feel. I need to live a life that's real.

I'm such a waste of life.