Memoirs of Me

Again knocking at my door again knocking down my door again impatient and swift a monster in disguise lies this depression in determined silence How it rose from the sand and gravel of the hour glass how it rose out of time like an imaginary speck picked from the air don't ask me, I'm unaware I could blame it upon myself but I have done nothing to spring it upon myself Maybe it was Love Letter maybe it was Adryanna maybe it was Ever After but she hasn't done anything barely said a thing since that fateful Wednesday she has done nothing she was always the one to build me up cheer me up knock some sense into me even when I refused to listen Maybe, it could be possibly I have Arkansas Anxiety possibly I miss my home possibly I miss Sarah the Sorceress I could say it so but the one who loves her most might say I'm just slowly trying to steal her away That ship has sailed...sailed so long ago I just crave to hold her in my arms once more if I can just so I won't forget Maybe, maybe it truly is because I feel useless sitting up everyday the same routine composing the memoirs of me composing the memoirs of my life composing the memoirs of my imagination to be heard, to be known to see where I can allow this to go to just follow in the footsteps of my heroes to say for once while I'm alive I finally did something right To say for once while I'm alive someone knows who I am at least from my own perspective I don't want to wait till I'm deceased I don't want to be deceased and then be heard I've put five years and seven months into this so far I just don't want it all to be for nothing City and Colour I've never craved the city I've always been colour blind but the music kept me alive kept me in a visual wonderland a mix of hues I could never recite never comprehend like I can't comprehend why I feel this way So low, so small, so defeated Has the sun blackened upon me again or have I just mistaken my identity again I've driven myself my entire life to believe I was extraordinary to believe I was the only unique but in the years that passed I find I'm the one ordinary While I dream of being a Rockstar a friend of mine is living it While I dreamed of being a parkour athlete, free runner someone is already out there accomplishing it While I dreamed of world travel someone else is wishing me luck in my endeavors While I dreamed dreams of what little kid dreams a little kid grew up and pickpocketed my dreams from me So what am I left with... Typing on a broken laptop screen staring into space a blanket upon my head, a makeshift hood for me to bury myself once again writing another page in the memoirs of me because the dreams I believe in they may never come true I sit... I stare... depressed and unimpressed... I dreamed of being seated in Seattle my Seattle apartment my own City and Colour a shade of bright lights to lighten up gray skies but I have no money but I have no car I'm just an ordinary kid I'm just an ordinary boy I'm just an ordinary dreamer writing emptily to be extraordinary writing emptily to be unique but what am I left with... Just typing the memoirs of me on a broken laptop screen