This world of mine is painted black

This world of mine is painted black. The walls are black; the curtains are black, the chairs, tables, carpet, tiles, cups, shelves, all black. The only light visible is within the black television. Visible but unobtainable. I’m locked within this world of mine, trapped and isolated. At times I’m allowed to stick my head out of the window to see the light that surrounds this black world of mine. Waiting for another opportunity to feel the light; even if it is only temporary. I do not want to see this world of mine.
I want to live like the others, a world painted white. To be able to live in a white world and freely paint my world in whatever colour I desire and to be granted permission to leave and return freely. I want to be able to look at the sea. To see the dark blue from areas beyond my reach, but clear waters when up close to me. I want to be able to be affected by that very sea to help me become calm. I want to be with the mountains, to enjoy the fresh air that city people don't often breathe. To stand on top of the mountain, like I’m on top of the world and to just let nature take away all my troubles and give me some relaxation in return. Even if I’m only allowed to experience the desert, then let that be. I would rather be at a place, which may cause me frustration than be stuck in this world of mine.
Why is everyone allowed to experience different feelings? To be able to explore between optimistic, through to disappointment and to being loved. It is not fair. Why am I the only one who is only allowed to experience one set of feelings. Loneliness, rejection, sorrow, tormented, hurt. Sometimes I wonder, are there anyone else out there just like me. Locked within their own world. Just like me. Suffering day after day, week after week, month after month. When will this stop? Please, please let me leave, this world of mine.
My world originally was never engulfed by this negative energy, which turned everything black. It too was once a white world. A world also referred to as being ’innocent’. It is not even two years since this world of mine became black, but I already forgotten what’s it like to be content, what’s like to truly smile and know that everything is ok. I’ve forgotten the feelings except by name. Sometimes it feels like my world was black from the very beginning of my time. It feels like that’s all I’ve every known. There are times when thick red liquid seeps through into my world, giving a splash of colour to my pitch black world. Just like the light, it is only temporary, but unlike the light, it is not that I must wait to happen to me. It sometimes feels as though the red comes when I call for it with all my heart, to show itself once again in this world mine.
Black, black, black, that’s all I ever see. People experience the beach, the mountains, the dry lands and much more. But This world of mine is now the only landscape I see and remember. I wait and wait, waiting for something that almost seems impossible. For the shade black to once again become white and for the chains that locks me within my own premises to break and set me free. Though deep down inside of me, I know that once a world becomes black, it can never ever go back. It can only go as far as a world that is white but a black box that shall always be there, ready to engulf the white world once again. And even if I can wait till that can happen to me, it can take years, decades and maybe not even in my life time. I want to get out, but I can’t. This world of mine is painted black