It takes a while
for me to realize
I'm not me
I'm not even here

I'm somewhere else
far away
looking in from outside
but never feeling a thing

I don't understand why
but it just is
there's nothing to do about it
no reason why it came

Sometimes its just emptiness
or numbness
or empty state of mind
But sometimes it's worse than that

Sometimes it rips me in half
with overwhelming hurt
a buzzing at my wrists
not something I can ignore

I decide to paint
something pretty
something red
my paintbrush
a pretty silver pen