My life on that day wasn’t black and blue, or the pink on my face;
It was a canvas of white so I could paint the black away.
My life on that day was a million bridges and a million futures I could’ve picked
And I chose words to stumble, and words to fall
Out my mouth, to be stained onto those white clean walls
For those bridges I left at that river I drained, For they were all too clean and safe
So I packed up my bag, which carried my pen
And wrote down the words I knew I never said,
From those words, I built bricks and silver and screws and cement
But the words that I wrote, that I tried to use to play pretend
They were just imaginary
Some people had imaginary friends or monsters to haunt them at night
I had words that crawled and flew and bled out of my eyes
With sickly red, or clear of day
The glass I looked out of was rained on with black or red or white paint
My life on that day was when the words left me alone
The words I thought I was and who I knew I’d become
The house that I’d built as a safe place crumbled around me
My life on that day, I had realized, that it didn’t fall down all at once,
Not quick and erratic
Not all and one
It was the base that had eroded away
Sep 10, 2025
Sep 10, 2025 at 10:28 AM UTC
My life on that day wasn’t black and blue, or the pink on my face;
It was a canvas of white so I could paint the black away.
My life on that day was a million bridges and a million futures I could’ve picked
And I chose words to stumble, and words to fall
Out my mouth, to be stained onto those white clean walls
For those bridges I left at that river I drained, For they were all too clean and safe
So I packed up my bag, which carried my pen
And wrote down the words I knew I never said,
From those words, I built bricks and silver and screws and cement
But the words that I wrote, that I tried to use to play pretend
They were just imaginary
Some people had imaginary friends or monsters to haunt them at night
I had words that crawled and flew and bled out of my eyes
With sickly red, or clear of day
The glass I looked out of was rained on with black or red or white paint
My life on that day was when the words left me alone
The words I thought I was and who I knew I’d become
The house that I’d built as a safe place crumbled around me
My life on that day, I had realized, that it didn’t fall down all at once,
Not quick and erratic
Not all and one
It was the base that had eroded away
