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but i let my feelings be withdrawn.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.