Too Human?

It couldn't be more simple:
I am not happy to be alive.
Happy and bleeding
I cannot cover it up any longer
There is no point, there is no comfort
Those that surround me have slight imperfections, to their own demise
Conversation is nothing
Plans mean not a thing
Promise is a dirty word
Loyalty is a half-drenched dog, looking for shelter these days
What more could I ask for?