Flashback

28-06-10 1:40am

I’m stuck in this place where my depressed state somehow doesn’t equate
Like, pretty girls don’t dig their own graves at 19.
And maybe pretty girls don’t.

I am choosing to stay bed-ridden.
Induced sleep that doesn’t solve anything,
But you don’t know what my dreams are like.
Dripping with fantastic seduction,
Never-ending good moods.
Not just the fleeting moments of O.K that plant themselves into my week [like weeds with bright flowers].
I rip them out at night, expose their faults and flawed design.
Pick apart smiles that seemed so genuine at the time.

 I wish no ills on my enemies,
I don’t actually have any, so..
I just carry around their ills.
Offloaded on me at some party, someones house.
Pack-mule of a girl. 

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The past doesn’t scare me as much as the prospect of a lazy future does.