walking away

Sometimes its just too hard to let go
of the past and present.
Too many threads pulling you back,
weaving you back into the tapestry of life.
A life so devoid of emotion and enthusiasm;
A life so pitiful, that nothing matters anymore,
except for the what if's that float in air.
What if it'll become better?
What if this is the last day I'll have to sit and cry,
alone by my bed, waiting for death?
Not the morbid one to dwell on the worst,
not as masochist to live in pain,
just a girl trying to fight her way through life
before she drowns beneath the pressure,
and shatters into a million pieces, never to return again.