The artist

If something in the past can teach me, I’ll look back to find it
I swear I’ll feel brave someday, just not yet

My heart stopped

I’ve been cutting ties with emotion
I’ve been trying to get by without devotion
Without devotion
I didn't want to feel or smile or better yet
Didn't want to have to learn to feel things again

What can I leave behind that'll never fade?
Where can I place my pride? Where can I place my pride?
Where will I find something that feels sincere?
That feels sincere
For every dream that I’m still trying to fill
I’ve had to let go of countless more
How do I know which ones to keep?
How do I know if it’s not too late?
Why now?
I used to dream of being an artist
The world needed paint as bright as my visions
But love never shows its true colors
The world reflected black so I painted myself