why do you breathe

if we could see death on him
would we be more empathetic?
where then, is the lost pity 
for seeing the pit in me

if we inhaled to live,
what then, is motivating you to breathe
would we find the reason
if we tried hard enough to live

if memories were the past
would that mean you'll soon pass?
where then, are those evocations stored
fleeting and superficial, pure perfunctory 

if only these thoughts never came
if my words strung into poems
the poet wished she never wrote
ignorance - a bliss that must be cherished

if we came as the party's highlight 
why do we leave silently, the door closed behind 
is it to keep the joy going on
or because we never belonged

if i could plead,
could you promise to leave with me
the party is a facade without you
and anywhere is joyous with you

if depression is the diagnosis 
then loneliness is the pathogen that cripples the fearful
what then is the remedy 
or is there even any?

now wonder, why do you even breathe?