We’re sitting on your couch drinking whiskey straight from the bottle and I'm eyeing all the things I cant have. If I could sum up succinctly, my emotions, it wouldn’t be.
“I'm sixteen, date me” but more along the lines of “I wish I could think the way I am” and that’s. my life. Put as bluntly as possible. I'm not into it, over it. But there, should still, be some consideration, I see through you're elaboration. One day, I'll find, these words have lost their weight, making it so much clearer.
You're the most chronically afraid person I know, and that's okay.
I'm growing up, and for what?
For what?
Let's weave this god damn narrative. So let's be generic teenage kids. If that's what it take to feel alright.