Once I tell,
will I finally escape this hell?
I wish it were that easy.
The truth has always been described as an ease,
but is it really?
You could easily call me a fool for thinking I could change all the rules.
Now I see, that all my tears are just reasons to be surrounded by these can of beers.
Every year, I wish for the next,
hoping you'd finally see me and send me a text.
I just want to see this story finally rest.
I only want the best.
Desperation seems to be my biggest test,
I guess I'll finally be able to lay in a state of waste.
YOU ARE READING
The Journal
RandomLetters from a boy who felt at one point or another alone. Who wrote as a way to find a new voice. These are things he wished he could've said. Things he should've claimed. And now will be saying. These are words that come from a place of hurt and...
