I'm just a girl,
with her own scars,
and her own smiles and tears.
I get hurt just like everyone else,
but I still tend to laugh often.
But I cry.
I'm aware of love,
and yes, I am a victim.
I have my friends,
my strengths,
my weaknesses.
And if all this isn't the best in life,
I'd rather be dead.
I'm always a mess.
I can never keep my own secrets.
I laugh too hard at stupid things.
My favorite songs make me cry, but they'll say all the things about my life that I'm too scared to say.
I