16 or 17 Dec 2014
The water if the shower falls around me and my tears mix with it.
The sick feeling in my stomach makes the tears worse.
It's a feeling that everyone hates you. It's not nice at all. My stomach heaves from my gasps for air. I have a horrible shower. The water doesn't was away whatever is troubling me. It makes it worse.
I want to just curl up into a ball and have a good long sleep and for once not wake up at 3am sweating.
I want to live.
To feel giddy excitement.
Not this.
Dull, boring, sick and crying.
I want to ride on rides and go to music festivals.
I want to swim in huge freezing lakes and break laws.
I'm romanticising being a criminal because for someone who has lived their whole life by the rules; I want to feel the rush of adrenaline.
I want to pack up and with a friend jump in a car, drive wherever we want and do whatever we want.
Not live in a boring town.
And go to a boring school that makes you want to jump off the nearest bridge.
YOU ARE READING
The recollection of my misunderstood thoughts.
PoetryLife's a struggle and it's hard. There's nothing you can do. Just get trough it. I hate my life. There's nothing new. But when the sun is out and the sky is void of clouds you can't help but feel a smile is overdue
