WHAT WAS I BORN FOR ?

WHAT WAS I BORN FOR ?

Am I really sad ,

or I make shift my mental state to do another attempt on writing another  grieving poetry?

Is my man really mad ,

or I villainize his existence to built and break the glass castles of my  solitary nonsense?

Is Taylor Swift really a singer ,

Or someone that helped me to built my tortured personality to be relevant ?

Do I really don’t have friends ,

Or I just love the idea of distancing myself from people that have opinions ?

Why am I built like that ?

Why am I still alive within this?

Why can`t I stop typing the letters on my key board?

Why can`t my brain shut off, for once  , instead?

Is there a way out to death ?

Is there a way out of this sonnet ?

Is there a way out rather than getting upset ?

Is there a way out to not take birth , and bear all this ?

Why do my poetries sound like songs ?

Am I the abandoned daughter of sylvia plath ?

Why do my proses are so  unreadable ?

Am I the failed child of my own parents ? 

They ask me to settle down and sing sonnets ,

But I claim , I am unable to settle ever , like never ,

Because I got the flesh from my father , who is so furious 

And the mouth of my mother , who is always miserable .

Why did  I never got any siblings ?

Because they couldn`t bear another regret ,

None of my cousins even ever call me,

As I lack human pretense  .

All of the people around me told me ,

I came with death written on my grave ,

So I gotta die, no sooner than later,

So I am no  more horrified . 

But could I really die, without building a legacy?

Of poetries and satires , written within a century?

Was I really born to die, or to write everything , constanly?

But before I could die, let me write,  you , another  poetry .

[my friend , because I took birth to only do this.  ]

Leeza