LW 101

I am an eighteen year old girl. I am lonely, I am sad, and I am tired of being used.
This makes me like every other eighteen year old girl,
and it makes me resent myself.

That's not to say I dont have good times, but as for my days, I spend them waiting. Waiting on a phone call, a text message, a sign from something, the hours to change. Good things come to those who wait, so where are my good things?

I have made myself lonely, I think that I will always be sad, and I allow myself to be used.
This makes me like every other eighteen year old girl,
and maybe it's something I have to accept.