promise...

updating from the corner of existance. still trying to grasp the idea that maybe every wrong progressed from a right. and they ask me what progression means but all i can say is "i have no idea." because these thoughts just make me suffocate. every word you whisper keeps me wishing i could be dead. but i bought a stereo to drown out your submissive replies to all the questions that everyone is still scared to ask. ive spent hours hiding in a reckless yet valiant story of love, loss, and hate. "somehow you still wonder if i've got what it takes." when everyone around me sits and wonders what i'm thinking, it makes me wonder why they'd be so interested in the story of one girl who waited until she was sixteen years old to give herself a shot at living. shes been through hell to get to this point, and yet she still lies awake at night wondering if she'll make it in the world; if she'll ever be successful and important to anyone other than herself. this girl, cold and distant, smiled for the first time today. of course she's smiled before but when was the last time she actually meant it? hiding behind a fake smile for 16 years, she started to see that life itself was never meant to be taken for granted. now that this girl has truely meant to smile, she wonders if he meant anything he said that made her smile.

"Dont make this easy. I want you to mean it."