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I hate how things change right when you don't want them do, and when you're in need? Things seem like they'll be the same forever.

I hate talking about memories, well not the bad ones at least, I'd rather talk about .. you know..something else. I'm not one for feelings, and I'm definitely not one for hugs. I don't feel sympathy for others and especially not myself.

I try.

I don't know what's going on. It's like anger is the only thing I feel now and the only thing I recognize. Any situation, I just somehow find a way to be negative about it. It's the only thing I've felt in a really long time. And don't get me wrong, I'm amazing at hide and go seek.. but you will never find me.

I'll put on some false lashes, draw in my eyebrows, and you won't remember the person on the inside. Nobody ever remembered me for who I AM, and not what I'm known for.

So when you find me maybe one day in New York City smoking a cigarette by the corner store in bright red heels and a vintage hat on, you'll remember what I did.. but not the girl inside. She's nice you know.. maybe if she let her walls down.

And you'll ask me why I look so worried and I'll reply with I'm waiting for someone.. but I'm alone, resisting the urge to tell you I look worried because I have a theory that if you fall asleep with a worried face, it'll get stuck.

I always have the mind of a child, I always will. That's part of why I don't like talking about my feelings. Because half of the time I don't even know what they are.