I'm being selfish and holding back the shreds of hope left withen me,

harboring chance with every grip,

because theres nothing more to share with this world.

ive opened up like a book fluttering pages of mistakes to curious passerbys,

but now im done entirely,

so fuck you to the many people who carved a smile on my wall and deserted me,

id rather be left alone,

one thing to break me, another to show me a glimpse at happiness....the real thing.

I have nothing more to give,

trust is now an issue.

Its one thing to never reach a dream...

another to live it for an hour and have it snatched beneath your wings.

no more stories of my life to people who seem to care,

no more excitement over little things that might lead to a happy night,

because ill always be the girl riding the jet...preparing to die.

the one who looks down at the tracks at the train.

standing too close to the edge as the train whishes by.

the one peeking over the edge of the balcony.

im done entirely....

no motivation and no placebos to trick my mind.