White noise.
It's all that's left now.
The constant thrumming of sound,
washing through my veins,
easing it's way into my mind.
There's no feeling left at all,
Is there?
Because if there is,
I certainly can't find it.

Trapped in my own mind,
the pounding in my ears,
sounds like sand,
sliding through my veins,
weighing me down even more,
than I was before.

Was this even a good idea?
The color of this room drives me crazy.

White.
White walls.
White floor.
White door.
And that stupid fluorescent white light.

That one light keeps looking at me,
it just watches me.
It's constantly reflecting off my pale skin,
prodding it's way through my bright blue eyes,
to poke at the back of my brain.
Why does it have to be so bright?
Why does it have to be so...white.

It's like this entire room was built to watch me fall apart within it.
To constantly reflect my pain upon it's walls.
To beg me to stain it with the colors of my insides.

Red.

Red is what I see.
Hiding my eyes under my hair,
I see red.
The white light is forced to shift it's hue for me,
as I gaze upon it through my spider web of thought.
No one knows what I hide behind my eyes.
No one knows how hard it is to refrain from painting this room.
To cover up the white with red,
and to rid myself of the constant colorless noise.