I'm from a rotten family tree
That I burned and replanted.
I'm from tears, cries for help, self-hatred, bruises, and scars,
But I'm still breathing.
I'm from blades, numbness, envy
But I'll get over it.
I'm from a colorless world of gray and black
That I took the cheep crayons I had to paint for my brothers.
No matter what though...
I'm still growing.
I'm still alive.
I'm still healing, though I'm running out of time.
I'm still smiling to make this world bright.
Most of all...
I'm. Still. Here...
To say my last good bye.
:)
YOU ARE READING
stuff
Short Storyjust stuff I think about. usually those late night thoughts when you're left alone and start thinks. truly how you've been doing. nothing more nothing less.
