I feel everything in sporadic bursts of color.
Kaleidoscopes of orange and blue and green and red and crippling black.

I feel to escape the hollow screams.
I feel to escape my own insanity.

There is no beauty in pain.
There is no reward in silence.

I tried to talk to god when I was younger,
but I have since found that the sky is empty.

Feeling is humanity's forfeiture.