easier to live without.

i lock doors and look both ways before crossing the street. I listen to the insults and make sure I never do to them what they’ve done to me. how does that work? i keep my tone even when I speak. I don’t greet people with smiles in fear that they’ll be bothered. I don’t smile too much or they’ll think i’m laughing at them. I stay in the lines, far from the boundaries set. and yet still, this isn’t enough. it’s never enough. something is always wrong. im always doing something wrong. I look wrong, or maybe I say the wrong things when I do speak, or maybe i’m not worthy enough to be given the pleasantries the average human being tends to reap. maybe I don’t have the rights philosophers like to talk so much about. maybe there’s a reason why everyone in my life seems to back out letting me know that i’m easy to live without. maybe i breathe too heavy, too loud. i remind them way too often that im still somehow alive. i wonder if they ever think about that. why i choose to live instead of die. maybe. I used to think maybe, but now i’m sure.