I know i'm not seen. In this black and white world i'm nothing more than grey. I'm in need and that make's me see through. The tears I shead aren't more then drops of rain in winter time. My soul rottens a little more every second, every minute, everyday... all day long. I try to push him away so I can finally put up my walls and shelter myself from the outside, but I can't help holding on to him hoping we might be the one to save me (even when I know there's not much left to be saved). I cry. I do what I can to hold them inside to fool the emptiness that grows continuously with no end in sight. Maybe he likes me, I don't know. I doubt all fellings. It's not safe to trust feellings for they come and go as they please and what I need is reassuring (in my mind I tell my frightened little self it's all gonna be alright, soon it will all go away). I hold on to him for the time being. Not doing so would be saying I was ready to die and honestly I'm still torn apart in that subject. I wanna scream but i'm aphonic and my voice only echos in my head hurting yet silencing the thoughts. Oh, why is it so hard to find a cure? Why does it take so long to heal? Why does it hurt so bad? . . .
Once again I find myself in a black and white world. I try to paint my tears with a blueish deepness and my smiles with a carmineish velvety passion and my look with a greenish hope. I seam to fool pretty much everyone but looking in the mirror I can see me and I see myself right back. Colour wise I am grey, soon to be black, waiting to be reborn from the ashes one more time but with no certainties... Hopefully i'm in my cocoon waiting to once again emerge as the beautiful butterfly I can be.
