Yellow is my heart,
Yellow is my blood,
Yellow is the flood that drowns me slowly.
It tells me to grow
As if there were any comfort in that
Go with the flow
As if there were any comfort in not knowing.
I have lied to myself so much
If I didn’t have to I and I would never reconcile.
Yellow is my bed,
Yellow is my stomach,
Yellow is the bucket that stays dry.
It shows me all the pain I have not had
As if there were any comfort in that.
You do not need to cry
As if there were any comfort in that.
I have ***** myself so many times,
If I didn’t have to I and I would die at the sight of the other.
Yellow is my breath,
It smells a bit like stale wine,
Yellow is my mind
It looks a bit stained with too much time,
Yellow is my heart,
Vacant,
Yellow is my blood,
Ambulant.
I promised not to promise anymore,
And you keep telling me to let go,
That you know,
But the walls of your home are still standing,
And I have a tendency of losing things,
Like my keys,
My father,
Myself.
Why is it that I need to show my pain for it to be recognized?
No
Why is it that the sun still shines even when it lies?
Why is my sorrow dismissed just because I try.
I try and I will try again,
That doesn’t mean I feel less pain.
I feel pain.
I feel pain.
I feel pain.
I feel pain.

He left me for no reason.
I’ve learned that you can give the world to someone and end up with nothing.
It just stays stuck in the empty space between two people.
You know it by heart.
It’s the same place as where the broken promises lie.
Why the **** do I still try if only those who’ve given up get medals,
if only those who’ve given up are beautiful when they cry,
if only those who’ve given up are allowed to die.

I started hating the brightest parts of myself because as much as people love light
they only find comfort in darkness.
And I find life in it.
And all of my light is flooding through my bones,
My broken bones,
It’s the only thing I want to let go of.
I promised not to promise anymore.
I put away that little box of gold,
Let it shatter on the floor,
If I break things well enough they can’t walk away from me anymore.
I am only stating what I am afraid of,
I am painting myself in ink,
painting myself in yellow.
I am but a symptom of my own fear.
And it tells me to grow.
It tells me to grow.
Yellow.
So I do.
So I do.