Is it a state of mind?
Is it just my imagination?
Playing tricks on me like that?
If so,
What vendetta does my imagination have?
Why does it hate me so?
Is it purely self-destruction?
An attempt to cut myself from the chance?
A chance of rejection?
A chance of tears?
A chance of pain?
Cause I've already been rejected
I've already shed my tears
I've already felt so much pain
What more is there to experience?
What more for me to feel?
Perhaps I should take that chance
Perhaps I should take loneliness off my mind
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Bathe in Color
Storie d'amoreParis Wills is a dreamer. His father always said he got it from his mom, an artist who was unlike any other. Her virtue was painting, and Paris' is poetry. No matter where he is, Paris finds inspiration for his poems. In the summer after his sophom...
