shell of what use to be

whats the point of going to the limts of something you love when all you get is greff and pain. it's ok for you to hate me for all that i have done. iv made mistakes but im not the only one what is there for me and what will i become is there everybody out there is there someone who even cares i live close to death every day and i never see someone move an eye after all iv done to help you you turn your back on us? i guess we don't matter to you the things in witch we want will never be found so i don't even know why i go on. you'll never see the true side of me because the true me is slowly fading away. only my shell will remain