Cal

Stories are so nice. Eyes glittered, peolle fall in love, people have friends, people are happy. Lies? Are they? Or a truth I couldn't have? 
          Either ways there a Stories of broken kids, who never had all of that. Maybe mine is that kind of a story. And I have to swallow despite everything. I don't know what lies ahead..but I'm not allowed to give up, I have to trudge on. Maybe no one would get me..maybe shit ugly, but mine is one of a kind of a story. All the good things I wish for shall be written down.

I wrote a whole 2 pg poem at 2 am. Like in one go. What am I? How depressed?

What can be done if I suck? If I'm a disorganized mess? If I cant do well in exams and keep writing stories I'm too afraid to publish? What if I fail? What if my life is all wrong and I disappoint everyone?
          
          I want to say that I'm sorry. I was that part of your life that you didn't deserve to be screwed up but guess just tag me off like a rotten decision you took. 
          
          And I want to be free, to feel okay despite everything, being who I am. I admit I'm not the person of your dreams and I should realize it's okay, it's not completely my responsibility anyways.
          
          You are not the people I dreamed of either ways. You are not perfect either.
          
          Thankyou for love, now bye.

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