White and Black

I sit alone, an empty hollow
I'm a shell of what I once was
and the dust rises and falls,
while shadows of me lurk upon the walls
and I'm so alone,
that I must face myself...
There is no more setting me down in the back
on the highest shelf...
am I really me now?
or am i the three people who
have protected me and yet held me back?
I am so f*****g sick of thinking in white and black
I'm so sick of the outbursts in my mind,
yet smiling and pretending I don't know how to step out of line
Do these people really believe?
If I break out, and bust down will they just leave?
and every time I start to trigger,
my mind gets smaller and my problems get bigger,
I want to feel again but I'm stuck on numb,
I need to let it out but my senses are dumb..
and who's left to pick up my shattered pieces?
even if i let myself break
there's no way to release this,
this hardness that I feel...
all the masks that I'm afraid to peel
maybe they are stuck on and they aren't coming off..