the miserable life of a miserable teenager

how fitting.

Call me cliché, but it’d rather look how I feel, rather than walking around with smiley faces and rainbows.

Who knew, it’d suit me so well?

Like I was meant to find my other side.

Dyed my hair dark, because blonde reminded me too much of the little girl I let down.

I try to ignore the stares that come with my thick eyeliner, because I don’t have the energy.

But if I let any of the eyes into a day of my life, I’m sure they’d look the other way.Property belongs to Nôvel(D)r/ama.Org.

I’ve found my people before,

and let them leave.

What’s the point? Life just goes on and on and on and on. Could you keep a plant watered your entire life?

And if your water was a fucking psycho?

Besides, I’m just not the type to let people fuck with me for a day and rewind tomorrow.

I feel worthless enough, as is.