What's In It

My days are lonely. My days are long. Whats the point in pushing? In asking for the hope, the hand of another? I am meant to be alone. It is better this way, so my darkness can't spread. So I can't be an influence that kills the joys of living, the price solitude takes is nothing short of everything. My sanity breaks with each hour spent separated, in space and time, from the whole of anything. I having a longing. To have never been born, to not exist, to have never tainted a life. I am so broken I can't even hold water. I just keep coming back to that question. Why let anyone in? Why hold the company of others? So that I can welcome them in, expose myself to ravaging creatures of a fallen word? So that without warning they devour my soul, consume my heart leaving me an empty shell. Oh, wait I did that at that's where I am at at this moment. A pathetic lonely being with nothing to give, nothing to have. My sorrows are even worthlessly wasted. What will become of me? I wish he could let me go, like everyone eventually does. I want to die without hurting another soul. Without spreading my curse.