Unknown artist,

wasted identity,

I feel the colour… I feel it fade to grey.

 

I don't know where,

or even who I am,

my vision blurs out,

the life I’m trying to lead.

 

I’ve had suggestions,

to write my life in lies,

yet never feel,

like I’m allowed to feel.

 

Arrested choices,

decisions by the book,

told to abide by,

a fake reality.

 

I’m claustrophobic,

the pressure drowning me,

to be accustomed,

to my thoughts cornering me.

 

I’m told to face,

to face reality,

that I won’t make it,

for simply being me.

​

All my ideas,

all my epiphanies,

reduced to punchlines,

reduced to smithereens.

 

But I’m ok,

I know I’m going to be,

it’ll take some timing,

that’s just reality.

 

And know what? Fuck them!

Fuck all the haters see,

I know I’ll make it,

just you wait and see…