I swear, every day the sky gets grayer
Slowly, the realization hits, but lacking no force
This life is all I've got.
People die.
Buildings crumble.
Nothing is guaranteed.
Not even the next day.

I know this, but I fail to live the day like it's my last
For a subtle moment the sky shows a hint of blue
But happiness vanishes before it can be grasped
Like the hint of beauty that is the sky's
It's a sky as colorless as my skin
The house to the sack of bones I lug around
My soul being all that is real and true.

This life is all I've got.
People die.
Buildings crumble.
Nothing is guaranteed.
Not even the next day.

Stars gaze downward
They could grant all my wishes
Why aren't I the main character?
The hero?
But I've heard it all before
"It doesn't work that way"

That way is exhausting
I'll live for myself
It's the best thing I can do.

This life is all I've got.
People die.
Buildings crumble.
Nothing is guaranteed.
Not even the next day.

Apologetic towards myself,
I should have never let it get this far out of hand.
Mistake after mistake after ******* mistake.
Slowly ruining myself and watching it helplessly unfold,
like being forced to watch a horror film.
Pieces of my heart are dying,
like the characters themselves.
But in many horror movies,
there is a survivor.

By pushing myself to the edge,
I've erased my weakest link.
The only part of me that sees this day is the strongest of my heart.

So the question presents itself,
and has already been answered.
Weakness is the key to strength.
You build resilience,
after you've been dragged through the dirt.
The weakness is left behind.
There is less to glue back together every time you break.

Sunlight reflects off the water,
creating a golden shimmer.
Ocean waves roll toward me,
then crash into my feet.
Clouds stroll by endlessly,
my imagination runs wild.
I take a deep breath,
and the warm air fills my lungs,
I take another look around.
Goodness,
I'm so terribly far from home.

You see me every day.
Walking through these musty halls.
My blank, forward stare passes through you,
like a cold breeze.
My music is always blaring.
How am I not deaf?

I'm that kid that loves music more than life.
I'm that kid whose day is ruined without it.
I'm that kid who takes one more trip around the school,
just to listen to my favorite part with the volume up.
Yeah, I'm that kid.

The one who stands up for his friends.
The kid who knows his self-worth,
and doesn't need anyone to help him justify it.
The hard worker who constantly dreams,
and reaches out his hand as if he could grab them.
The one who stays up all night,
just to make them happen.

I'm that kid.
But you don't know anything about me,
remember?

And you can call it this,
And you can call it that.
But the words that you say,
can never change fact.
The pain that you caused,
will last me longer.
Than the "happiness" you felt,
in that one shallow moment.

You are the hero to your own life. No one can see what you want the final outcome to be but you. The biggest opposition you'll ever face is yourself. But being the hero of your own life, did you ever stop to contemplate that the hero always wins? You know yourself better than anyone else, so why can't you defeat the voice of doubt that is yourself? You can, you just have to believe you can. It's funny, cause you stand back and take a look at yourself or your dreams and believe them unachievable but then depending on how modest you are, believe deep down that you're really not all that great until you achieve them. If we know ourselves so well, why don't we just defeat ourselves and our doubts and take control of our life, be who we want to be? It's harder to do than it seems like it should be. The answer to how to do it still alludes me, but I think realizing that I know how to defeat myself better than anyone else gives me the confidence to move forward and give it a shot.

Walking aimlessly through the halls
One wrong turn, and then another
The darkness is only exceeded by my anxiety
I have no idea where I am going
I hear a voice, it whispers,
"Leave, what are you doing here?"
I have no answer to that question.
But I press on.

I'm wandering towards the dark center of my heart.
Unlocking doors to unveil the secrets of myself,
that I don't want to know.
But I press on.

Here I am, the one place I don't want to be
It's dark, it's cold, and not at all welcoming
Each breath chills my insides, I close my eyes
They should freeze be they open for too long.
But I press on.

The screams curdle my blood more,
the louder it gets, piercing my ears.
Blood runs from them as quickly as the tears begin to fall.
But I press on.

The end, it can't get any louder.

My hearing is gone completely
The cold has numbed my body
It's much too dark to see
The salty taste of blood

This is what it's like to be me.

My life is a serious of unfortunate events,
one after another until my uncertain death.
It all seems so pointless, doesn't it?
Why care about anything, if nothing matters at all.

I haven't amounted to much.
All I have are small victories
alone unable
to give me a sense of false hope.
I'm a legacy left for no one to hear.
Watch me conquer all,
just to be whisked away by death.
Do you see my struggle?
Of course not.
You're too busy living it too.

But my heart cries out in desperation

It says, I want to live, don't take my life.
I want to stay here forever, don't take me away.
I want to be happy, don't cause me pain.
And finally, it screams,

The purpose of my life is living it, don't get in the way.