the miserable life of a miserable teenager

They walked. Property of Nô)(velDr(a)ma.Org.

I watched them slowly get up and decide to turn around, past the walls they once broke down, and back to wherever they came from.

I could’ve told them to stop. Come back.

But what’s the point? For them to stay today and squirm again, tomorrow?

I don’t have the spirit to keep them around.

All they do is bum me out more.

Make me see how tragic my life truly is.

Or how good it could it be.

Who has the time? Just leave me lonely.