I want to be missed.
I want to be held in someone's memories as passionately as I hate.
I want my name to be whispered into the night,
like a secret only the moon can keep.
But, that isn't going to happen.
It just won't.
When you're disposable and forgettable,
Who wants you around?
So I hide in my room
Not afraid to come out
Just tired of missing people so much
When I am but a distant memory.
