I once had a dream where I was loved.
I once had a dream where I was cared for.
I once had a dream where I wasn’t falling into a dark abyss.
Where I was cradled, treasured and assisted.

I once had a dream where I was happy.
I once had a dream where I was sane.
I once had a dream where I wasn’t crying.
But when I woke up, it wasn’t the same.

I once opened my eyes and the world collapsed.
Everything just fell onto me.
I was in denial, no I don’t want to see.
But the surrounding darkness won’t leave me be.

I once had a dream where I was proud.
I once had a dream where I was glad.
I once had a dream where I was free.
But that was it, it was just a dream.

A world of nothingness.
I walked left and right.
I was floating while I was falling.
Convinced that things will be just fine.

No buildings.
No people.
No economies.
No boundaries.

But there are voices that I can never see.
Hollow words echoed in still air.
A heavy weight dragging me deeper to nothingness.
It never stopped, not even for a second.

I stared at my own hands.
My own fingers.
My own fists.

I smiled to stop the cries.
Yet I can’t resist.
My eyelids flickered at my exhaustion.
I forced them open to my mind’s creation.

A light was found.
A beam of unexplainable colors discovered.
A path to an exit unraveled.
A smile I never received was given.

My lustful husk stepped into the nothingness.
I didn’t fall.
I got closer and closer.
But something wasn’t right.

I paused.
Refused to continue.
The light flickered, blinking and shivering.
The light faded as I fell again.

Another light appeared.
This time it was dim.
It had no colors, no path, not even a grin.
I smiled at it and let myself fall.
This is a world of nothingness, afterall.

You don't keep the wrapper after you ate the candy.
You don't keep the box after you opened the gift.
You don't keep the newspaper after you read it.
You don't keep a person after you figure them out.

A little ghost girl whispered in my ear.
A voice so faint, yet loud and clear.
She cuddled me as I sat alone.
I brushed her hand, but she wouldn't let go.

Little ghost girl, it was a joke.
Little ghost girl, won't leave me alone.

It's not an insult, it's just my skin.
Some faint footsteps and a scaring grin.
I'm not invisible, I'm just strange.
It's not my fault my mind is deranged.

The little ghost girl strangled my neck.
It burned my every fiber, nerve, and speck.
I cried but no one came to help.
Rest in peace little ghost girl, killed by the past of herself.

Maybe if a lemon was red.
It wouldn't have such a sour dread.

Maybe if flowers were green.
They wouldn't have been seen.

Maybe if the sun was black.
It would have the bitterness it lacked.

Maybe if things were never grey.
The world would have had less dismay.

Maybe if I had no clue.
My life wouldn't have been so blue.

Maybe if my heart was yellow.
I would never have been sorrow.

Maybe if I’ve seen the colors.
I would have been less blind.

Maybe if the world isn’t drenched in the color of despair.
It would be better.

A girl wore yellow and pink.
But on her chair she slowly sinks.
Sobbing on her table, you can see her from a mile away.
She’s always so cheerful, but you can’t make her stay.

A smile, a grin, some little hops.
Her positivity never seemed to stop.
But everybody knows that she cries.
She never hides how she dies inside.

You walk into the room when she cradles herself.
She reached out but no one helped.
You stare and you’re bothered.
What happened to the girl and her colors?