"If I killed myself today, the sun would still come out, the stars would still shine, so why not?"

Why is that a comfort? A warm, firm hand on my cold heart
The soft touch of a delicate embrace

But, it's supposed to be bad right?

I shouldn't but I want to
I know I can't yet I yearn still
What is wrong with me?
I find solace in strange places
The screaming of thunder storms and harsh blows of the wind
The chaos and pushing of hundreds of bodies against my own
I've learned to like the dark, the ugly, the bad

And it feels good
Why is that so bad?

But if it is so right, why does my heart scream "guilty" ?

I'm on Cloud 9 and rising
Its like a race but I'm the only one running
From who? Where to?
An internal sort of marathon that only my heart and mind participate in
They lap one another again and again and again and again--
Focusing is hard and I feel out of breath
Dizzy but acutely aware of my surroundings
My senses heightened and my mood lightened
Is this panic? Am I manic? Or just plain crazy? If you look at my eyes you'd probably think I'm just sleep deprived
Oh! Maybe euphoria? I think they all call it joy-- I wouldn't know, maybe this is how everyone feels when they truly love life which must be nice being in a constant state of high--
Well i want to smile and laugh and take a walk
Maybe go out and explore, the night is young, even though it's 1:30am
I have so much energy I'm even writing this poem and I love the inspiration I'm getting
But I can feel my heart dragging, something is lagging in my chest
The chains tighten and they're only getting heavier
The fog starts to roll back in and my vision turns fuzzy
My head stops spinning and I'm starting to sink back down to earth
Down down down down down
Until I hit the ground
Again
And I sigh, because i really liked being a bird in the sky
Farwell, my anxiety high

Blue
Why do we taint such a beautiful color with our sinful emotions?
Sadness, overwhelming feelings of despair all of which this color has to bear
"The most human color"
Why?
Humans are creatures of red
The harsh words of anger or fiery fits of passion
It would be more fitting to **** such a brutal color to this fate
Blue is nothing more than an innocent child, caught in the clashing crosshairs of the human mind
As we desparately try to identify
Associate
Define ourselves
How can you describe you?
Why blue?
What of black?
The emptiness fits. The dark scribbles in circles of rage that could go on for days
It would be a perfect human color
Then again black isn't really a color
But lackthereof
Sort of like the true definition of us
Void of anything concrete, eluding us to yet more questions
No answer
So I guess blue it is, for the simple reason of just because
Blue lips
Blue veins
The colors of our planet from far far away