Colours blur right before my eyes.
I can finally see through these lies.
Am I dying? No. It can’t be.
All I ever wanted was to be free.

Is this my fate? To be like this?
To be unloved? To not be missed?
To be the way that I am right now,
Isn’t good. I need to change, but how?

Changing the way I look and feel.
So that nothing will ever be real.
Change the way I talk to others.
Change the way I see the colours.

See the colours in a new light.
See the ways I can win the fight.
See the colours as others do.
See everything as lies rather than true.

Take away the colours of honesty.
Take away the things that bleed.
Take away the joy of our lives.
To make us sharp just like knifes.

What does it mean to be happy?

Does it mean to smile and be free?

What does it mean. Really.

It is an emotion. Surely.


But I’m curious. What does it mean?

Can’t be something made by a machine.

Because in the end, it’s nothing new.

You can be happy or sad. Up to you.


It’s a choice. No matter what situation

Wether at home or across the nation.

It’s your choice to have get or to lose.

Being happy or sad. What do you choose?

I can't see. I can't hear.

I can't tell how I feel.

But it's okay... it's okay,

I'll live another day.


I can't hear a word you speak,

I won't admit or I'll sound weak.

But it's okay... it's okay,

I'll live another day.


I'll live another day.

Same friends, same town.

Same family who'll never let me down.

Same house, same rooms.

Same party and birthday balloons.


Everything will stay the same.

Even the people who as for me name.

Everything the same. Just how I like it.

I like it more than I can admit.


If things stayed like this forever,

the same old things won't end whenever.

I never know what to write.

I'm trying but I can't win the fight.

This "thing" prevents me from thinking.

Sometimes I feel like breaking.


I don't know what to write anymore.

I can't write just like before.

This writers block is getting to me.

Once this is over, I'll go on a writing spree.