It’s This Or I Feel Nothing At All

I just think trees are neat

Who am I, you ask?

I wish I knew

I wish I could tell you the stories and anecdotes of my life

And how I became the person I am today

But I’m not a person you see

I am but a reflection

A mirror

I am who you are

And when I am alone

I am no one

Me and that one friend. Breakdown buddies

Especially with them

tell me every horrible thing you did and let me love you anyway

I used to.

But love isn't supposed to hurt. It's supposed to heal

“When you think of love, do you think of pain?”

— Vance Joy, Mess Is Mine

If life is a blank canvas waiting to be painted, I don't have any colours of my own. Every faint pencil line, every stroke of paint be it black or golden was borrowed. Nothing that makes me who I am is truly my own. I am but a collection of everything that has impacted me deeply, some aspects may be beautiful and some tragic. So to everyone who cared enough to look my way, I may have painted the picture but thank you for letting me dip my brush into your paint by spending time with me and creating memories, even though we didn't know it at the time.