Bucket-list

My friend asked me, 

"Will I live long enough to receive my first kiss?"

"Will it be on the cheek or the lips?"

"Don’t you want to get married or have any kids?" 

"At this rate, I bet you’ll never see the ocean before you die."

My only reply, 

"I’m just trying to get by." 

That’s the only way I’ve known how to survive.

Day by day, 

One step at a time. 

Is this living?

Probably not. 

But it’s the only thing I’ve got. 

Then I have to hear,

"That’s your bucket list?"

"So small, that’s it?"

"There are so many things you’ve never experienced."

"A play, a concert or even sex."

"Don’t go looking for sympathy,"

"Because you’re the very reason why your life is where it's at currently."

Although, I’ve never asked for any. 

The most I’ve ever wanted, 

Was for at least one person to understand. 

Well, excuse me while I fall,

Through your expectations of life which I considered hell. 

I don't know what will help. 

But it's not your criticism, 

Camouflaged by compliments. 

Don't you know already?

Everything you've said to me.

I've thought of a million times and more. 

My mind is filled beyond bedevilment. 

I’m starting to lose this fight.

This eternal struggle within myself. 

Waking up every day, hating yourself.

I don’t know what will help. 

I've grown so tired.

Each step is aching. 

Day by day. 

This pain proves I'm still alive. 

But it’s the only thing I’ve got left.