fifteen

hope tastes like chalk in my mouth
like greenery trying to root in dust.

sometimes money isn't worth my time.
sometimes friends are not friends at all.
sometimes, you cannot make what's wrong, right.
you carry on.

i hold to promises like i hold my breath
and i hardly believe in trust any longer.

quit stealing from me.

keep me at arms length until you realize what i'm worth.

isn't that the trend?

i'm fine either way.

i kind of have to be.