The days are starting to melt together.
I keep wondering when things will get better.
The masquerade keeps me at the bottom.
What do I do, I just wish I could solve all these problems.
None of this makes any sense to me.
And I’m just trying to find better scenery.
So how do I break free from their grasp?
Will I ever get a taste of happiness that lasts?
I guess I need to learn how to get stronger.
Because things keep getting worse, and I don’t think I can take it any longer..

Sliding down this seemingly never ending downwards spiral, I’m just lucky I’m not in denial.
Why can’t I find something worthwhile?
My life is unfolding in a catastrophic sense.
But my mind is too slow, I’m just happy it’s starting to make sense.
So how can I crawl out of the hole they’ve been digging me?
It’s gotten so deep that there’s no light that I can see.
This life is a hoax I just want to be me.
And regain anything lost including my dignity.

All of this feels like torment. Where do I go next? Stumbling around through this chaotic mess. Who am I now? What’s left in my chest? I just wish I could figure out where I could move next.

What is death if not a fresh start?
Do you get a new chance after your body falls apart?
What about your soul?
Does it reach the stars?
Maybe we’ll never know but I want to go far.
If we get reborn will we dance in the rain?
I hope there are more chances because it can be hard to stay sane.
Maybe in each life we’ll be awakened by love.
And from us will eminate the stardust from above.
So as I keep trying to be the best version of me,
I’ll keep on believing in the beauty that is all around me.

Artists are often
broken people
using the fragments of themselves
to create something new
and although
being healed
feels so complete
sometimes i want to be broken again
sometimes i want open wounds
so i can use the blood
to paint sunsets
so i can use the torn off pieces of skin as a canvas
so i can carve
masterpieces with the jagged bones left behind
but I can't bring myself to break my own heart in the name of Art

Living my life as someone else, when can I be set free?
Stop acting like you know me, this is petty slavery.
All their lies and stories have been manipulated to be true, what’s there left to do?
My whole life I’ve been trapped in a losing battle, why can’t I find my shoes?
This cuts deeper than you think, will I ever find a way not to sink?
Why can’t I find my way out of their grasp?
I just need to find something, literally anything that lasts.

Why can’t I find myself?
Where did the pieces go?
Will I ever know who I am?
Or will I continue to keep losing hope?
I guess sometimes it comes back.
But it’s still me that I lack.