Dead or alive

Some people hate themselves, ok?
And some of us can't sleep at night, because our thoughts and burning skin are keeping us awake. Some of us don't know why we're alive. Why we are here, and what we should do. We just want someone to care about us. Some of us are disgusted by our own bodies. To the point where we just don't want to live in it anymore. We wonder why no one notices us. We wonder what it's like to be sincerely happy. We wonder how we ended up like this. Some of us torture ourselves with the thought of it all being our own fault. Some of us feel so unattractive that we want to cry. We regret everything we say two minutes after we said it, and can't stop thinking about the fact that we should have kept our mouth shut. Some of us people cut ourselves. That might be to feel something. Maybe even just because it helps. Some of us take pills. Why? I don't know? Because it takes away some sort of pain? Maybe. We tend to smoke a lot. We harm ourselves; we put scars on our naked bodies, and we fill up our untouched insides with smoke and drugs. We don't know how we can torment ourselves like that. We just do. And it comes natural to most of us. Some of us want this, some of us want that. But we need to realize that not all of us will make it out of this alive, but some of us will survive. Let's never forget that.
I'm not sure if we're dead or alive. We're dead, yet still breathing. We're lifeless, yet still awake.
But I know that some of us will some back to live some day.