by Anna F., 18
Emotionless and numb to my rash decision
I told myself I wouldn’t write about you
But she told me that I would soon find myself
Where I am now
Sitting on my bed
Writing about you
Hopeful and uncertain for the promise of my future
I told myself I wouldn’t need to hear your voice
But she, again, told me that soon I would be
Where I am now
Staring at this page
Writing about you
Jaded and tired of my monotonous routine
I am trying to tell myself that I made the right decision
But after the dust settled, Youth was right about me being
Where I am right now
Driving myself mad
Writing about you
Franklin, Tennessee
Bridge Ink 