Lately, I’ve been thinking of the times I was young n was desperate to be loved. I can’t remember a time I was truly picked first.

My heart still breaks a bit for who I was when I was seventeen. So in love with the idea of this man who was six years older. Clinging to the little crumbs he’d throw, even if it was to just use me as some sort of fantasy to escape his life. Wanting to believe so badly he had a heart of gold, even after breaking my little heart for three years. I don’t know if he’ll ever know how truly confusing that is for a broken seventeen year old.

These days my heart breaks for the pathetic, little puppy I was for someone I thought was my best friend . Someone I still wanna believe has a heart of gold, despite taking the little I had left .

I just want to be beautiful and forget it all .

Every day , I always think the same .

Am I as forgettable as I feel ? Was any of it ever real ?

I don’t wanna b here

Anymore , anymore , anymore