Flick. Lights off. You hate me, I've ruined your life. You wish id never been born, you wish i'd just have died.

Flick. Lights on. You love me, You want a second chance. You want to be my mother , we can do this again.

Flick. Lights off. You're in the dark once more. I hide behind the walls of my room, scream and lock door.

Flick. Lights on. I've stop trusting the lights, they deceive me. Even when the lights are on...ARE THEY EVER REALLY ON?!

I can't trust the lights. So I go mad in the dark. Living in a house in a room full of lies.

There's no escape from the darkness, especially when i close my eyes...

I want to cut my hair.
Chop it all off and make it into something beautiful.
I need to cut my hair.  They say things like
"Wear your hair down more." "You'd be so pretty if you let your long hair down."
I DO NOT LIKE LONG HAIR.
I have never liked long hair.
I seek liberation, from this metaphorical suffocation.

Please, just let me cut my hair.

I want to be the cool girl, who gets all the other girls. The skinny one. The pretty one. The handsome one. The stylish one. The gay one. The tattooed one. The one with short hair.

I want to have short hair.

I don't want to wear a dress, or at least I don't think I do.
I don't want to wear a suit, or then again maybe i do.
I'm not sure who i am anymore.
Stuck within this eternal identity crisis, living in fear of what everyone thinks.

Can't i just walk down the street smiling? The wind in my hair, the sun on my face? Feeling as if time is irrelevant?

Except nothing is irrelevant. Can't i take my girlfriend to Prom without feeling lost?

Can't we both be the prom queens?

I Must get up today, maybe stay in bed today.
Wish I could go away, instead I'm staying here today.

There's so much to do today, as if our lives begin anew each day. How many times do I start over? ****. That's a lot of days.

I think I'm overwhelmed. Or maybe I've overwhelmed myself. Because this day is overwhelmingly difficult and I can not seem to understand myself.

I think I need to change my ways. Sail off on a ship, sail way out that way. Never looking back, sailing far far away. But I'd miss you too much, so I guess Im here to stay.

It's worse here, in the dark room of  my mind.
I wish I could stand in the sun, but there's a door I can't seem to find.

I've been in the room so long, you'd think I liked here.
The darkness and the shadows, you really think I'd like it here?

I CANT GET OUT! I'm trapped Inside. Please get me out im starting to die......

The next day has come and I'm suddenly outside, I'm not sure how I got here, i know Ill be back inside.

Sooner than later riddled with fear, tell me how do I stand in the sun but still feel cold when I'm here?

In the morning is when I like it most.

When you've just woken up, and you forget where you are.

Yes, the morning  is when I like it most.

When it is dark and quiet, when no one is a wake.
The cloudy skies and the cold represent my mood for the day.

The morning is when I like it most.

After the sun rises, the people rise too.
The day begins anew, but my peaceful morning dies too.

Yes , The morning is when I like it most.

It's funny I seem to think,
How small your mind is,
I think it still shrinks.

It's tiny.....little and small.
I think we all get it,
It's anything but tall.

You have no perception,
You're riddled with fear.

You question all the others,
Just why are you here?

Is there something your missing?
A lie you've yet told?

Are you ashamed too?
Of the secrets you hold?

You see,I stand in the sun.
With my arms open wide

I'm proud of who I am,
Yet you cower inside.

Away in the shadows,
Screaming out lies.

No I am not a coward,
I love who I desire,

Maybe one day you'll learn how
To extinguish your fire.

"Who am I?" You ask.

I am the wind blown through the trees on a bitterly cold evening.

I am the shadow in the corner of the room, catching your eye for only a second.

I am the deja vu idea of something you feel like you're always forgetting.

I am nothingness yet I still appear before you.

Am I just your mind playing tricks, in an endless game of reality?

Or am I the myth of something not quite real, living in the limbo of life and death?