I was around 18 when I started to feel the world clawing at my soul. I was carefree and exuberant. When the world finally noticed me, it pulled me to the side of the never ending celebration that was my life and softly whispered into my ear all of the things I never wanted to hear.
“Come with me,” the world had said.
I listened and I followed. I followed because, when I looked around, I saw no other way to go. For the first time, I had no grand rebellion to hold up and protect myself. I had didn’t have a “fuck you”, at least not one that I could wail at the top of my lungs. I had no one to scream at any more but myself, because, for some reason, some giant idiot thought that putting me in control of my own life was a good idea.
I take that back. I am the only giant idiot to blame. I should have kept up my “fuck you’s” because they are what had kept me so whimsical up until that point. I painted. I wrote. I escaped the life I hated every day.
I followed the world because I was exhausted, and now I realize that being exhausted is bull shit. I don’t care how easy it seems to follow any more. I’m getting out of here.
Fuck you.
It would be nice if things happened the way I dream they do.
i wish anyone asked me to do anything with them ever
Take me back to the place where I can feel your heart.
People don’t always know how to be who you want them to be.
I would have fit in perfectly in the 20’s just take me back
❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀
Come for the week
You can sleep in my bed
And pass through my life
Like a dream in my head
It will be easy
