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There's nothing left in me.
I have no more to say.
That being the case, I'll just walk away.
I just want them to see what is slowly killing me.

This used to be my home.
All I want is a rise, so I don't have to feel like a monster for hurting you in the way that I always do.

So, tell me now if I'm going overboard.
Is it too far-fetched to think like me?
To see what I've been through?
Or, is it false, like any dream?

Perhaps it's okay to be grey in a world of black and white.

And if this never happened, would tomorrow be the same?
Now that I'm running from the very thing that feeds me
The change that I've been dying for?

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