All I can
Do is
Think of
You.
Please
Hear me
Missing you
Because it's
Like I'm screaming
With my heart
But the
Sound is just sucked away.
Such a waste
Of voice
Such a waste
Of noise.
I think
I'll drift on for
Now
And see where
This
Current will take me.
I hope you find
What you're
Looking for because
I need
To know whether
What we are doing
And what we have
Is right.
I'm not sure whether
I'm supposed to know you.
Nasty words
Have never
Hit me before
But now,
They stab
Like knives.
And it's far
Worse than the
Feeling I have when I miss your
Company.
These words
From your friends
Are the scariest
And most horrible
Words.
In my mind
I turn around
And tell them they're
All awful people
Who deserve eternal
Misery.
But I don't.
And the worst part
Is that all you
Do is watch
Me get cut
To threads.
(found splattered with tear stains, on an old piece of paper left on the High Street)
YOU ARE READING
Faded
أدب المراهقينBecause in the end, we are all irrelevant. Especially me. {A series of notes and letters written by a girl called Chloe McMullen, found in places you would least expect}
