![[Cupcake] profile picture](https://profilesarchive.blob.core.windows.net/pictures/536/l/75595536.jpg)
I’m 21 and so full of contradictions that I can barely keep up.
I loved you; you made me.
You gave me hate, see? It saved me and these tears are deadly.
You feel that? I rip back, every time you tried to steal that.
You feel bad?! You feel sad?! I’m sorry… Hell no! Fuck that!
It was my heart, it was my life, it was my start, it was your knife.
This strife it dies, this life and these lies.
And these lungs have sung this song for too long, and its true I hurt too, remember I loved you
! I wish I could I could have quit you.
I wish I never missed you, and told you that I loved you, every time I fucked you.
Obsessed with the thought of you, the pain just grew and grew!
How could you do this to me? Look at what I made for you.
It never was enough and the world is what I gave to you.
I used to be love struck; now I'm just fucked up.
Seems like all we had is over now you left to rest.
And your tears are dried up now, you just lay without a sound.
- The little things in my life are what make it twirl and I hope it never stops. I’m absolutely ridiculous at times and unbearable at others, but constantly thinking and changing. Most days, I like who I am and every day I give all the credit to the people I’ve known and continue to know. But, as fair warning, I only keep the amazing ones.
- Each day I’m creating a Soundtrack to My Life.
I’ve discovered it’s a crazy range of songs and can hold countless tracks. The quota for songs of rage and loss has definitely been filled as of late. Now I’m looking for my Heart Song.
- My family will always be the most incredible group of people I’ve ever encountered. They’re only the best parts of me, without all the rest. I couldn’t function without them. They’re my greatest blessing from God. I’m turning into my Mom more every day, and I can only pray that I make it.
- Love is generally my topic of choice in conversation. However, I’m “all over the place†on the topic to the point of frustrating myself. It’s beautiful. It’s a tragedy. It’s a complete and utter disaster. It’s complicated when it should be so easy. It’s just a freakin’ oxymoron.