I'm 17 and I'm fifty shades of fucked up. Trigger warning.
Could be moving again within the next 6 months…we are always moving…another new start…new friends…new location…more time alone…more time with my thoughts…
I’m dying inside, I can’t stop the feeling, I’m falling and I’m falling fast.
Laying awake with thoughts going round my head, wondering if for some people it would be better if I was dead.
I don’t need alcohol to make bad decisions
I’m grown but I’m not grown grown
Which means I know how to ride a dick but I’m still not sure how taxes work.
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