In a room full of dreams come true, my own is left to wander about. It is nothing more than a missing piece of a puzzle. But who's created this puzzle? While others are out accomplishing goals like they are counting tallies on a blackboard, I am left with a broken mind taken over by those around me. And while they are sharing their secrets and going out to parties, I am told to slit my wrists. As if slashing a mark on my skin will open this whole new world. And maybe it will. Who am I to tell? A world full of new life and feelings that I can experience for myself. As if counting tallies on skin will burst new colors that will change my fate. They take over my body and emotions and recreate a whole new me. A better me. So with a simple shift of my hand, I create a vortex in my flesh, hoping for a whole new world full of colors and joy but instead see only red. I dig deeper hoping that perhaps it's hiding farther down in my veins. No such luck. Each slice gets deeper and deeper until crimson covers the floor. And yet, I see no perfect world. Instead, I still see the fucked up one that I know I'm stuck in. And with that, I dig deeper until I see no more sunlight.
