Some thoughts

I ask why? I smile and ask why and it feels like I am spitting in the face of God. Right now today I am on this earth and have come through surgery and fighting cancer and I ask why? I don't have any answers no epiphany telling me some grand reason why I am here yet I ask why. Then I think how dare I ask when I should just believe that I am is enough. Obesity is my shadow my addiction and so I write my way around all of the things I have allowed it to take from me. I was a chubby kid that made poor choices and I am this obese person who asks why. I write into pretty poetry the person I should be living. The children I would have adored I robbed myself of being so overweight. The places and things I have written about are my variety of fantasy that I have never done. I write love from imagination not reality and I ask why. Why do so many people die of cancer and I am still here. Grateful beyond a shadow of a doubt to still be here but why? I ache to be normal but what is normal? I ache to live what I write and I feel powerless to change me and I ask why? Am I a joke and some cruel experiment in how much can one person question their own self? I don't get it and my words are a double edged sword and haven and a hell for me to hide in and still begs the question why? This is by no means a pity party I just am stumbling through the dark trying to find it all out before it is to late. I want to live my words not write them in what feels like endless lies because I have not lived a single word. So perhaps I should be asking why not?