Why?

I am not alive, I am dead. Why? 

I think I would rather be alive, but I am not. 

Well, for example, i was alive and it was warm. 

The warmth began to fade.

I wondered, why?

Days, weeks, and months had past me by.

The warmth lingered, yet dwindled.

Three years had passed since I first noticed its absence. 

I woke up one day, and everything was cold. It wasn't painfully cold, just slightly uncomfortable. 

I got up and walked to the bathroom like I would any day, and stared in the mirror. 

My face was pale, my lips were a bruised blue, I looked dead. 

I touched my cheek gingerly, my shaky hands

causing me to tremble at my own touch.

I could hear my heart beating fast

my head began to spin.

I took a shower,

letting the hot water caress my skin.

Nothing.

I made some hot soup,

its broth flavored liquid pouring 

down my throat

Yet, nothing happened.

I bundled in my

warmest clothes and blankets

yet the warmth never

touched my heart.

I cried myself to sleep

that night. 

Only to wake up.

The dream had ended.

I ran to the bathroom,

looking at my face and

how peachy it looked.

The red of my lips brought

tears to my eyes.

I was alive.

I'm Just dead on the inside.

That's where it counts.