Colour, Blind

In honesty I’ve found my way but I’ve lost direction.
Seeing colours inside myself that I’m starting to hate.
I’ve asked a few times now, 'Am I feeling better yet?'
God damn anger, you’ve done nothing for me.
Will you promise, I’m not dead inside.
Will you promise, that I’m god damn fine.
Craving recovery, you’ll slowly see, that all I am is crumbling.
When the sun comes up, will you check my breathing.
I’ve got no way of seeing that my life has meaning.