I’ll be here by the ocean just waiting for proof that there’s sunsets and silhouette dreams. All my sandcastles fall like the ashes of cigarettes and every wave drags me to sea. I could stand here for hours just to ask God the question, is everyone here make-believe. With a tear in his voice he said that’s the question, does this deafening silence mean nothing to no one, but me?
It will never be easy, but we work on it. I hate not being with you, or even within 5 km of you. If you were here, I’d be okay. But your not, and I’m not. And I miss you and the smell of your cigarettes and the sound of your laugh. I text you, but I don’t expect a reply from your credit-less number. For another night, I sleep to feel alone.
The Anthropology of Ariana.
I'm not who you think I am because to be honest, you don't know who I am. How should you? I laugh when i'm not meant to, I cry when things get happy. I never know what to wear. I want it to be hot when it's cold, and cold when it's hot. I like being alone, yet when I am, I wish I wasn't. I realised not everything is worth dying for. Nothings what it seems and who you thought were, aren't. All I need is you, that's all I really know.