So many thoughts.
So many ideas.
Yet my mind is blank.
Like a painting that hasn’t been started.
I want to be beautiful.
I want to see colours.
I want to bring light to this dark world.
But my mind is blank.
And yet it is racing.
I feel so numb.
But I feel everything.
I see what could be, but I am stuck.
I am happy.
I am sad.
I am angry.
But I am also nothing.
I am blank.

I miss the colours.
I miss the light.
I want it all back.
I want to feel again.
I want to fight.
But I am tired.
So tired.

When will I be painted?
When will I be finished?
will I be filled with light and colours again?
Or will I stay blank, and dull.
Lifeless.

I wake up
Heart pounding
Staring at a grey wall
I lay there in silence
A dull sting of nothingness
Capturing my soul
Eyes wide open
I keep on staring
Hoping to feel something
Alas, I never do

trust is something sharp to hold
for someone important
in a perfect world we'd never bleed over one another
chrome blades dig into each person
who lost grip with their loved one
in a perfect world trust would be dull
significance is in the blade
filled inside of the atoms
are the affections, promises and lust we carry
a perfect world is plastic
empty atoms
hollow and dead on the inside contain nothing
I rather take the blade than poison myself