Interview with Emptiness

Not sure if this is a poem or a journal entry, maybe both.

Why am I like this, why do I feel this way
How can I be so passionate, and still waste away everyday
Why am I not moving on, knowing I have nothing to go back to

All these things I've been through should build me up
And I still feel like only pieces of a man
The memory of all the people I've lost should motivate me
So why can I never come up with a plan?

Is it because the taste of honey is worse than none at all?
Maybe if I never felt love I wouldn't feel so empty now
I'm able to rationalize and accept the death of my loved ones
And I truly cherish the times I had with them, even the ugly ones
So why am I still so angry?

Why can't I move on, why can't I build new love?
Is it because I'm so terrified of losing it all again?
I'd still rather take the chance, and watch all my love wither away
Just to know that I didn't waste away another day

I'm sorry Ma, I know I'm not being the man you wanted me to be
I want to work on myself and get better, even though I know you'll never see