The Death of My Heart

Sitting down I think.
What the hell.
My mind is lost to the endless thoughts
that burn and scorch my soul.
I died again.
No lights, just darkness and noise.
Screams of children,
the agonizing pain that ripped through their body
and minds I felt.
Why is death so hurtful?
Why must I die daily?
Does anyone care for the screaming children?
I wouldn’t know.
I’m just the host to this unfair curse of a death.