Lost.

Sometimes, I can't see what I'm looking for.

Is it the life of a traveler, with thoughts of becoming someone?

Is it the life of a liar, with the face of a happy girl, pretending to be ok?
Is it the life of a hopeless romantic, holding her scarred heart?

Who am I anyway? Why am I doing this?

Sometimes I wish I had chosen lesser complications in life. Some days remind me of things left undone, untold im sorrys and the dreaded hollowness. Sometimes I feel like all the cells I was born with is dying.

I’ve been crying my eyes out, alone in my room, while that mascara drains off and my eyelids are swollen. I tried so hard not to hurt anyone, even when they did everything possible to hurt every fiber of my being.

xx