My life was never full of daisies, but it is not full of ash.

I was never filled with enough happiness to make me alright.

Oh, how I wish to be sad, and for my emotions to be rash.

I want to die, but I’ve been told to fight.

My mind feels like crud,

I want to cry, but my mind tells me I don’t have the right.

If emotions filled up bodies like blood,

My body would pop this night.

I would watch the blood flow down my arms finally in peace,

The overflowing emotions that once clogged me gone.

Oh, how I wish this pain could decrease

but i let my feelings be withdrawn.

Am i sad enough to cry?

Happy enough to smile?

My life is filled with neither daisies nor ash

but rather with nothing, 

which i fear most of all.