It all kind of hurts
Ok not kind of
it really hurts.
And it hurts more often than it doesn’t
But when it doesn’t
Oh, let me tell you about when it doesn’t hurt.
When I can feel the air I breathe
The languid drifting thoughts just before sleep
Those incredible moments when the only tears rolling down my cheeks are happy ones
When it doesn’t hurt, I see myself as limitless. Boundless.
I can be confident.
I feel beautiful, and loved.
The sweet world wraps its arms around me
And I am safe.
But it all kind of hurts
And that hug becomes a chokehold
And I feel ugly and ignored.
I am scared
When it hurts I am limited and trapped
And the tears turn into sobs
Making the thoughts of the night, terrors
And
I
Can’t
Breathe

Have you ever felt that you're so alive
but later on you're nobody? Well,
that's how I've been feeling ever since I was a baby,
a little kid and as of now, a young adult.
Back then I was so scared
to go back to face my fears, but these things happen.
What is snow? What is white? And
what is darkness, between black and white? That is what I need to know.
When I'm mad and dangerous I go black. And when I'm happy and kind,
I go white. It is like two different kinds of me in two different kinds of worlds.
The good side of me in a world of clarity
and the evil side in a world filled with wickedness.
Who am I? What am I? Which two different kinds of me is the real me?
Now that question I do not know.
I must follow back to my footsteps and find out who I really am
and where I truly belong,
in one world or the other.