Every morning is the same, meaningless from beginning 'till night. The curtains are plain white and are see through so they don't do a really good job protecting me from the bright sun. They were expensive but feel rather useless. Inside a constantly cold room, I hide my thoughts and feelings. Even if I wanted to forget what it means to be upset, I don't think I could. Ah, I can't help but yawn tiredly. Must be the pills again. No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to wake up, at least not properly.

Will I give up everything I know for you?
Would I lie to myself in order to heal?
I don't know, but maybe even asking myself those questions is dangerous. Throwing away what I perceive as reality - isn't that reckless? Maybe I really am too exhausted to think coherently. But it seems like no matter how much I sleep, I can't clear my head. What's the point in resting if I still feel exhaustion in my bones? Maybe that's why I'm asking those ridiculous things.

Not that I've ever thought things through anyway.

It should all be black or white. So then why are you so damn colorful? It's blinding, I don't know what to do.

Help me.

No, I can't expect a savior at this point.

Ha, there are still things I wanna talk about, there are words I wanna say, but nothing feels right at the moment. Maybe it never will. Is that really okay? I can't tell anymore. I'm too blurred out. Is it my medication or my tears? Some things are better left unsaid. Or so I've been told.

Shall I hold my silence now until forever?

Whatever, there is no more use for this heart. There is no escaping those thoughts, no matter how fast you run, no matter how well you hide. The saddening truth will find you.

I sigh and mumble to myself - it's just not worth it.