It's hard to think everyday is a day spent. That one day my clock will stop ticking, and with that, comes the end of my breathing. It's hard knowing how pitiful you are to be so remotely aware of the one life you have that you're too afraid to live it; Risk to live as they say. They also say that life is gods gift to us. What's a gift if it's never truly yours? That the one chance you were given, at the early stages of egg and sperm will ultimately be ripped away, and you're the one left struggling to take your last breath. It isn't fair. Why should we die in a world of beauty? Why do we need to leave it behind? Why must we go through the torture of not knowing? Why must I be so damn afraid? Why am I so practical? So unable to take charge?Why am i so quiet? Especially when I want to scream every single day? Why am I so emotional? Why can't I stop the crying every single night? Why am I so acutely aware that every second I'm dying? Why do i want to die in the first place? Why do i realize this at sixteen? Why does god get to choose the span of our lifetime? Why cant i die on my own terms, take my las breath on my own time? Why does he take back his gift? Why can't I just return it? Why Am I cursed with my own thoughts? Why am I living? why is life so cruel?