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rainys_daze's Journal

23 February
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I have paper, pencils, pens...I can't draw.

I have jounals, notebooks, thoughts...I can't write.

I have a guitar, keyboard...I can't play.

I have a voice...I can't sing. I can't speak.

I have tears, tissues, issues...I can cry.

It's so hard to be someone strung out from today, and all that you knew slips away.

And she knows she more than just a little misunderstood, she has trouble acting normal when she's nervous.

Yesterday upon the stair,
I saw a man who wasn't there,
He wasn't there again today,
How I wish he'd go away