the miserable life of a miserable teenager -
missing person
Roughly 5’3” 120lbs, blonde, doesn't want to be found. I lost her.
Yes, you’ve heard it before.
But when I needed her most,
I abandoned her.
It’s my fault, it’s her fault.
We’re the same fucking person,
but it doesn’t feel like it.
She was happy, hopeful, living.
I am miserable, bleak, dying.
I want to find her, but she doesn’t feel wanted.
She thinks they’ll just hurt her again.
So instead, I get to hurt.
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