the miserable life of a miserable teenager

The messy powder that litters the places that were once clean.

I am cluttered ash.

The dust that was once a solid, valuable coping mechanism.

I am black ash.

The mess that used to be my beautiful lifeline.

Missing when I wasn’t ash, when I was a sprouted plant.

Sure, I was screaming at you to pick me and sell me.

But dammit, put me back together.

Except you can’t.

Because all that’s left of my beaming smile, is black ash. Property © 2024 N0(v)elDrama.Org.