i paint my nails like the sky changes seasons
in the same light and dark ways
but just for all different reasons

my boredom is wilting my heart like a flower
how lonesome and pitiful
i decay by the hour

i have no more feelings
  like a whisper-less hum
a melody out of tune
a song become numb

if i could find the reason why
i wouldn't be down on all fours
searching on blindly
closing all the wrong doors

im noticing that it is hard
to just be free
when i settle on being something
other than me

the way that i am
people treat like the plague
so i've settled my case
and become somewhat
vague