The Real Angst

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If I killed myself today,
I wouldn’t be alive tomorrow, right?
For living is an art
Dying must be a fine craft.
But, if I didn’t know how to live,
How would I know how to die?

If I were to kill myself now,
Would I be able to breathe later?
Knowing that I have held my breath for a while,
My last sigh should falter through my soul.
But, if I didn’t know how to breathe now,
How will I give out my last sigh?

If I were to live in the now,
Would I die in my past?

If I were to die in my memories,
Would I live in my present?

If I killed all the ifs,
Would I finally get my respite?

If I lie to love life,
Could I start to hate death?

If I stopped asking questions,
Would I begin to live?
Or would I start to die?

If I were to kill myself today,
I wouldn’t be alive tomorrow, right?