the morning sun
swallowing my bedroom
looks more violent
with each day that
i lack the motivation
to face it

There is a part of me
That I hold very dear
To who I am
A part of me
That is always hidden away
A part of me
I have never been comfortable
Of showing to other people
It is the worst part of me
But it is the best part of me
I like it the most
It feels safe
Like a secret only I know
Perhaps this is why people
Find it so difficult
To figure me out
Perhaps no one ever will

Reality tells me that maybe
The little hands around my heart
Are singlehandedly the only thing that makes this all bearable
I say things are good, I say things are so good
And I mean it
I can hear the honesty in my voice
And I know other people can hear it too

But these little hands around my heart
Are they holding rose colored filters over my eyes?
I like to think that I believe things are good
Because they actually and truly are good
But when I think about it
I really don't know for sure
But that's how it is with everything I suppose