Perhaps, this is me. To sit alone on a cold brick porch, surrounded by the unending chirp of crickets, shrouded in smoke and dim, golden street light. Perhaps this is who I've become, a lonely cold girl that doesn't know quite what she's hungry for and doesn't really feel like doing anything specific.
Am I jaded yet? I'm not cruel. I'm not bitter. I feel neutral to all this... This disappointment that seems to be tailing me as of late. I hate that fast tug that yanks at your heartstring when someone lets you down. Perhaps, this is me. I'm afraid that's what I've become. I do not want to be your failure, just as I don't want you to be mine.
I've had people lie to me. And they still lie to me. And I know that they are lying, and yet, they still chose to carry on with it. It's stupid; they're stupid. I hate how it feels, that awkward embarrasment of knowing you're being lied to. You know they think you are a fool and you know they are a fool for assuming so.
Perhaps, this is who I am. Neutral. Beige. Switzerland. Water. As inert as can be. I want to love! I want to love everyone! I want everyone to love me...
I want to find the boy who loves me as much as I love myself.
Perhaps, this is how I shall stay. A chilly little girl, sitting on a brick porch, waiting for the sun to rise and dreading starting another day.
