I'm withering away.. and you can't tell.

I see each chapter of my life
drift away as the blood stains the knife
i feel the air turning to dust
like breathing was never really a must
i hear the sounds fade
as heat covered by shade
who am i to say,
i am to live on to the next day?
laying cold and weak on this floor
i see my chances for life hanging by the door
as if they knew death was near
they left me to cower in my own fear
who am i to get up?
as if my pathetic being deserved to strut?
what difference does it make,
if i am to fall or break?
who will hear the shatters?
the click clack or titter tatters?
foot steps walk on by
no one even cares if i am to live or die.