sleep deprived and head on overdrive. heart racing a mile a minute at the thought of you and i.
la vie en rose, blissfully tragic.

Have you any idea what it's like to be a prisoner of your own mind?
To fly and meet the colors that belong to your surroundings
Only to realize that you brought with you the darkness you've known since childhood
And drag you back to that terrifying, sulking corner on the street
Where your unreasonable thoughts take shape like a rusted chain
You're caught. Loud but inaudible, brittle yet unbreakable.

I continue what I started yesterday and for a while, I forget what's living on my nape
I grab a pen and a piece of paper and fill it with fluttering colors and sunshine
But like the ever-present clouds above that block the rays, warmth gives way to the cool breeze
Something I can never avoid for it is as a natural as having coffee in a hazy morning
Or the tranquility that exists when you're halfway through the storm
I'm back to square one and again and I wonder, will this ever end? Or must I flip the switch myself?

Meet Gabby, Jensen and Monique, masters of teamwork. They always take care of me
Running to my side on the first sign of danger, not to save me from it but to push me to it
I try to fight back and paint them white rectangles
But they have a strong hold of me like a baby receiving its bottle of milk since last night
Eventually, I stop trying and I guess they thought it's no fun to torture me if I don't care at all
And so they pack their bags and I say to them, "See you around."

its too loud
too loud too loud too loud
the room is filled with sound
and focusing on that
just makes the thoughts of you
become more vibrant.
why don't we laugh like that anymore?
why don't we sit and talk like that anymore?
why don't we share memories anymore?
where are you? its too loud.

expectations and assumptions
you and i
we had it all

why am i here?
i said as i clutched onto my books
indecisively struggling
it is a common event that i never anticipate
must have been the invisible weight that i carry on my shoulders
or the sleep that I'm deprived of

it is easy to speak and make a fuss
but difficult to ignore the voices that echo in our heads

it is all too concentrated
i feel suffocated
but i still keep the noose on
and drag around my own being
in these places
it is like play pretend
and i am the impostor

it was them
who preferred the mask
confusion was the one who got lost
in what it thought to be a playground

i am still strangled by the noose
as i continue to lose
surrounding my neck for its pleasure
and i stay here
blankly staring at the wall
of memories

everything seems so plain, dull, almost lifeless
all I see are preoccupied shells
not a single soul listens
so I sit here
with this brush in hand,
ready to dash
and I take off the scarf to adjust

all I am is a creature walking on shards of glass, hoping to find a new path instead of the crooked bridge I’ve tried to fix