I find solace in my solitude.
I tend to idealise my isolation.
Reaching the apex of my creative altitude.
I guess it's time for my medication...

The only truth I can ever know
is that of the thoughts within my mind.
And yet, it is my only true foe,
one I can never leave behind...

They say beauty comes from within.
If so, then where do anger, remorse and resentment reside?
Because I'm struggling to hear over the din;
it seems as though my beauty has no place to hide.

Is there enough space for all this emotion?
If I have a choice, I choose only one:
to get rid of all this commotion,
I have done what has had to be done.