Minds move too fast
While body’s stay still
I have lists upon lists
Unfinished chores
Get up
Clean up
Clean yourself
Feed yourself
But my body betrays me
Not even an inch of movement
Hours upon hours
A constant battle between the two
Body still as stone
Mind active as a windmill
Stone statue with a moving mind

I cling on to dreams
Like my life depends on it
Because it does
Without dreams I have no life
I can fly
I can live
I can be happy
I can be the self I should’ve become  
But they end
My body moves
My mind tries to fight it
But fails always and will always
Forever wanting to dream endlessly

People pour their words in my head
Too tall
Too weird
Too skinny
Too fat
Too flat
The words bouncing off the walls
Never leaving
Going in but never coming out
Poisoning my mind
Wondering why they won’t leave
Only to realise that those echoes
Are no one else’s but my own
My own voice
My own words
These words becoming my own
Forever stuck, never leaving

Born an artist
Drawing on whatever I could reach
Painting all the colours I could make
Time going by making me older
My most pride and joy
Turning against me
My paintbrush turned to tissues
My eraser turned to bandaids  
My pencil turned to a blade
My skin the perfect canvas
My wrist the perfect paper
Now my books plain
My walls white
Mind empty
All is left is the art piece on my arm

Being stuck between joy and numbness
Being pulled by one side
Then to the other the next day
Having to force that pull to joy
Straining the string
Once alone
It can’t be let go
Been holding the string for too long
My hands have cuts
My muscles are aching
The string is breaking
It’s easier to let go
Let it go

The darkest always seemed petrifying
Being afraid of your sight going
Not knowing
Not seeing
But I am now the opposite
Now that darkness has aided me
Comforted me
Hugged me
Hid me
My once most feared
Now my source of comfort

You can not help a dead flower
No matter how many petals you pluck
How many times you change the ***
the soil
the environment
Cut the roots
Give it sunshine
Water
Love
It’s still a dead flower
Forever rotting