Who Am I? Who I AmI'm the girl-next-door type And I'll let you trample over my heart. You'll never know that I'm falling apart Because I can't let you know. I'm starting to let go Of that insecurity.Who Am I? Who I Am
It's a start.
I'm the one that will always be around. Even when I'm at my worst, I'll still smile. Fight the tears, fight the bile That's rising up inside. I lied.
What kind of person does that make me?
I write to express myself. It's worth shit though, You know? It's so damned hard to tell you how I feel. And harder to deal That
PurgeIt seems like every bar has the same unbearable stench: piss and other disgusting bodily fluids mixed with the numerous kinds of alcohol, not to mention that maybe half the people here bathe once a month. But once you control your gag reflex and stay upwind of whoever is talking, it’s not such a bad place. A little crowded maybe, but usually that’s a good thing for me; the noise drowns out my thoughts and the bodies are perfect camouflage. Of course, all the seats by the one tiny fireplace are taken up, all the windows blocked either by a tattered sheet or wooden boards; the only lights were those that came from the half melted candPurge
Work Sucks
Stuck
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This is my Story.
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"Great, now I'm an alky AND a trollop. Two deadly sins down, five to go." -Faye, QC
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Beware the smile of a waiter. It means he's pissed in your soup.
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