wonder why.

I wonder why they cant see.
Why they think im all right again.
Or why i pretend i am.
Why i think its better to bottle it all and suffer in my silence.
Its petty to be here still.
Why im holding on.
Holding on with my last breath on to the hand of my soul.
To battle against the chains.
My feet are swimming in my shoes and im clutching on to a cloud.
I want to escape this un-Godly world.
Enter the unknown where the series of stabs are a distant memory.
And the scars are faint lines of red across my knuckles,