in a world full of colour,
i am a blank canvas.

It bubbles up in my chest like a contaminated effervescent drink.
I can’t rest, I can’t think, existence is inconsistent
I am shaken and going to pop
when in this state of mind
The capitol is anxiety, it’s a city I can’t escape from for to long at a time
Even if I travel away for the day
There is no permanent solution to the strength of this pollution inside of me.

The pages that I rightfully write, are to right a wrong
They are an attempt to sing a new song, a new melody
To try and shift a paradigm of my confused insanity


IT'S JUST "NOTHING MAKES SENSE" ANYMORE


Tear stains on my cheeks that you have to answer for
In sorrow for today and tomorrow and honestly for months to come
The thought of your little finger wrapped around my thumb
As our hands happily danced together, for what was supposed to be forever interlocked as we walked
But maybe "nothing" is exactly what needs to make sense
Being satisfied with nothing, is how to receive everything

You were untold from the circumstances
You were untold from your life

You were untold as apparent
but none can easily decide

Conjecture crimes of untold
supposition to your own

You were untold as you told
to the toddlers of disown

I grown up with a wish
that seems with a fish

In a pond of lake,
where a beautifull flower split

Growing alone to its seeds
for flying and wishes to lean

Make a wish of it's own thought
this flower will make not

For it's own rethought
will make a wish of adore