How hurtful the world can be...
When I'm just trying to be me.

Why am I so self destructive?
I can create such beautiful things...
But then I destroy them.

I live with the pettiest of fears.
Ones I can ******* get over.

So why can't I get over them?

******* my destructive self.

Truth be told, I'm not very good at this.
But I am figuring out how to be.

-Life

The thunder calls like an old friend.
I live electric.

But these dark clouds cover me up...
The blankets on beds I've never made.

Shadows share the walls.
They come and go.
They never stay.

I'm lost.
Sometimes I don't want to be found.

Sometimes I want to scream.
Sometimes I don't want to make a sound.

Can I sleep for days?
I want to try for it.

Believe me when I tell you that magic is real.
That right before your eyes things will change.

And for a split second everything dark, every shadow, seems to wash away as your world fills with color.

But in order for magic to be real...
You have to be real too.

My mind itself is black and white.
I cannot rid the dark.
I cannot shade the light.

Deep down inside you'll see.
The missing pieces.
I'm still trying to become free...

Of myself.