I believe in Magic.
Not the dream come true kind but the gathering
I know it’s just some stupid card game
But when you don’t know how to make friends
Maybe a little magic will help.

I look at the people who made me me
Not the person that I want to be
But this empty shell that walks alone
And can’t find a place to call home
I look at who I am inside
How most of me I want to hide
Like the scars that cover my midsection
And how people tell me they’re a sin
I hate that sadness that comes from pain
And I miss dancing in the rain
But now everything just feels the same
And I’m left wondering why I came
I hate the girl that I’ve become
And I know I’m not the only one
Because when I look at the people who made me me
It definitely isn’t love that I see

If yellow was a feeling I think it would be like my memories of you.
How young and bold we were and how we believed that love was true.
Before the world convinced us life is war.
Before you had to go and leave my heart sore.
Yellow is freshmen year in coffee shops.
Inside jokes, and soda pops.
Laughing on your bed room floor.
Car conversations even more.
I miss you desperately dear, but I do not despair when you’re not here, because my yellow memories out shine the blue and I just remember how I love you.