IncompleteA little something is missing.
And it makes all the difference.
And I don't know, don't know if I'll ever find that missing piece.
Sometimes it hurts. Most of the time it hurts. But I carry on. That's all there is to it.
I'm 18 years old.
And I'm not accomplishing much. But it's okay. I just keep holding on.
But a little something, it's missing.
And at night, I cry because I feel empty.
And some days I look out the window and I get this knot in my throat.
It's the constant reminder, that I'm not yet complete, that I feel empty.
I am ready to get out of this place.
But what I really wish is that I could get out of this soul, because although I am moving away, I am forced to carry with the real problem, myself.