I sit idly by trying to count the number of days I've been locked away
My mind tends to wander to the deepest of my memories, it seems to be the only form of movement my body gets anymore
I've managed to project these thoughts onto these walls, I call them portraits but to others they’re just sad excuses for living
I see them as an escape, a reason to keep on trying even though some of these thoughts push me to the brink of crying
I am confident that I'll find my way out and I'll be rеunited with the life I almost lost
At lеast that seems to be the plan and we all know how plans end up
And although I keep these portraits as positive as I can there seems to be a leak of negativity that seeps into the cracks
You may not be able to see them very well, it takes a special skill of self-hatred to pinpoint such a flawed design
Just stand back a bit and I promise everything will look fine
It only takes some distance for you to realize your problems can’t be seen anymore, which seems to be my philosophy on life ever since I can remember
But what's the purpose of these thoughts
When I spent my whole life trying to forget?
I just stood idly by watching as my life just walked to the other side of hope where there seems to be no return
I owed it to my family to make a better life for myself, you can call me a liar but I'll just point you to this imaginary picture on this hallucinative shelf
Look, here, here’s a picture where everyone was smiling at just the right time
But it all means nothing when half those smiles were faked and look at me, there in the corner, wearing the brightest mask of all
I hid it well, I made sure to keep my book as closed as I could and it paid off, oh, how it paid off so well
I hid my true thoughts in the chapters of my life where I was most alone, an autobiography that never made it to print, so you'll never know of the pains I faced on every waking day
My mind tends to wander to the deepest of my memories, it seems to be the only form of movement my body gets anymore
I've managed to project these thoughts onto these walls, I call them portraits but to others they’re just sad excuses for living
I see them as an escape, a reason to keep on trying even though some of these thoughts push me to the brink of crying
I am confident that I'll find my way out and I'll be rеunited with the life I almost lost
At lеast that seems to be the plan and we all know how plans end up
And although I keep these portraits as positive as I can there seems to be a leak of negativity that seeps into the cracks
You may not be able to see them very well, it takes a special skill of self-hatred to pinpoint such a flawed design
Just stand back a bit and I promise everything will look fine
It only takes some distance for you to realize your problems can’t be seen anymore, which seems to be my philosophy on life ever since I can remember
But what's the purpose of these thoughts
When I spent my whole life trying to forget?
I just stood idly by watching as my life just walked to the other side of hope where there seems to be no return
I owed it to my family to make a better life for myself, you can call me a liar but I'll just point you to this imaginary picture on this hallucinative shelf
Look, here, here’s a picture where everyone was smiling at just the right time
But it all means nothing when half those smiles were faked and look at me, there in the corner, wearing the brightest mask of all
I hid it well, I made sure to keep my book as closed as I could and it paid off, oh, how it paid off so well
I hid my true thoughts in the chapters of my life where I was most alone, an autobiography that never made it to print, so you'll never know of the pains I faced on every waking day
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