hand me your heart instead of your hand.
for once I wanna feel something besides fingers.
you’ve got a grip on reality that i can’t quite comprehend.
you know that i can’t even comprehend reality.
it’s not that i’m confused by your lack of understanding of black and white.
it’s not that i don’t understand why you don’t understand why i need colors.
everythings about extremes.
and in reality, extremes don’t exist.
i’d rather have them.
i’d rather have my head pounding with the thump of insanity
than feel little knocks on the door to my mind.
it’s okay, you know.
to feel crazy sometimes.
all the energy i’m holding back
explodes out and takes off in some twisted roller coaster ride.
it’s bang your head against the wall.
it’s need to scream until your thoughts almost mean nothing at all.
i don’t know my primary colors
i don’t know how to make black from grey and white.
you can’t.
hand me your heart instead of your hand.
for once i wanna feel something besides fingers.
maybe it’s just my slippery grip on reality that makes it easy
to forget that once upon a time
i could look up at the sky and erase all thoughts from my mind.
i don’t know know my primary colors.
i don’t know how to make black from grey and white.
you can’t.

it’s okay, you know.
to feel crazy sometimes.