I lay in my bed spending hours writing novels in my head, listening to meaningful songs, and evaluating my shitty life. I wonder if I write this for the comfort of getting it out of my system or am I seeking an audience. The only audience I've found that listens is the voices in my head. I almost bring myself to tears listening to each lyric in each verse. I feel lost and alone. I want someone to guide me and be by my side holding my hand. Although these are wants and aren't required or needed to make it through life.
I judge my worth and wonder if I present myself as a promiscuous sex craved teen. Maybe I do, and maybe that's what I am. But I want love, if it even exists. I'm told I don't believe in such a concept yet I dream about it every night and wish upon it every day.
