its complicated.
To be both oppressed and secluded.
Held captive in a life you do not desire,
whilst also being so unwelcome.
Ignored but watched over.
pushed away yet tied down.
To be given the tools to do anything,
but stripped from your limbs so that
all you can do is watch.
Watch the world around you radiate with colors,
colorblind.
Dreaming of the day you too can struggle to
find independence, never to complain
of being left out to fend for yourself.

'Its complicated' you tell them.

Yet here also, a burden.
A divider between happiness and the longing to do better.
Why?
I couldn't tell you even if i wanted to.
Trapped yet simultaneously destroying my keepers
sanity without having to lift a finger.

The world muffles as a sweet melody
takes over.
Emotions emerge, yet old friends return anew,
and my mind wanders.

Going through the motions like I've programmed myself to do
a million times before,
what all once came so naturally to me, so robotic now.
The feeling of desirable connection dissolving into
the drops that patter onto my windshield.
Cuddled in the warmth, yet feeling soaked in the cold rain all the same.
I cannot pinpoint when exactly this leak formed,
but this rusty car is starting to give.

Its all in due time till this shelter wont do no good no more,
as a new home awaits my shivering body from this storm.

Dreams are beautiful.
Hopes and aspirations that can be chosen to be
shared with those who matter.
Never to be confused with concrete promises, yet still
holds just as much significance.

Dreams give perspective,
a perspective that maps out our futures and gives
motivation to the great absolute.
It shows ourselves what matters most,
and allows us to narrow our current views to achieve them.

I hope to never stop dreaming,
and to never confine my dreams due to hesitation.

I want a relationship
But I'm not sure I'm ready
My mind's not steady
And I lie in bed
Thinking about the dead space
Thinking there will be someone
In place of the void
With a face I won't avoid.

It feels good when someone likes your pain.
Funny concept, isn't it?
To feel so fulfilled when you're congratulated for your wounds?
When you're celebrated for your tears,
commended on your scars,
applauded for your broken heart.
A creator is enslaved to his art,
the art is enslaved to his pain.
Without the hurting, the art just doesn't feel real.
It's a gimmick, just some pretty words.
Pain is the proper seal of approval.
The certificate of authenticity
You can't spell paint brush without pain.
Pain is the most vibrant color
The unbreakable pencil.
Heartache is the sharpest camera lens.
The ink runs darker when there's blood added.
Love is better remembered when it's broken.
Happiness is more vivid after it's taken away.
Loved ones become more loving after they're gone.
Love interests stay beautiful in the past.
The best *** improves with time
Good memories age like wine.
I'd love to make happy art,
I'd love to smile when I spill my memories
Be nice to just write because I can.
Pain is just more interesting.
Darkness the better work light.
Misery the better Muse.