I could say how I feel, but since when is that easy.
I'm an open book, but not always easy to read.
Of course you can see my chest as it moves up and down with breaths.
That doesn't mean I'm alive.
It's a little darker in here than you think.
Light doesn't really exist here.
I can't see but I can find my way through any shadows.
It's easier to conquer what I'm used to,
than face the brightest lights.
I'm used to standing in a black room.
I take it in, I create the words that make me who I am.
Lights aren't me. I switch them off.
It's where I'm most comfortable.
My closest friends are my emptiness, My aches, My dreams.
This life is one big daily test.
I just have to take breaths to get by.
There's always music in my mind. I'm dancing to it to keep myself sane.
If you can even call this state I'm in, some kind of sanity...
But what good is stability?
An artist can't depend on joy.
For darkness is pure beauty, and happiness is boring.