Crazy, covered in ink, and bursting of stories to be told.
This is my life, the good, the bad, and the crazy.
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Holding On To Hope
They say all things come to an end,
lets hope this shit and problems will end.
And I've heard things last longer than you'd ever expect,
lets hope this happiness will last -
maybe forever.
Hope is all I have,
it's what I cling to.
Hope is what's keeping me alive.
Why must people always have to be either good or bad? What if I was a good girl with bad tendencies or a bad girl who did good things? Must things always be placed in little boxes? What about those who do not fit into any box? What happens to them?
You built a house out of the bad thoughts rushing through your head and I tried to burn it down but you got caught in the flames. If it’s any consolation, I like the way you look with the tips of your hair singed off. I’m sorry your mother won’t.
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