I wish I'd known my expiry date.
Everyday, the clock ticks away,

counting down the seconds
to the day I can bid farewell

to this world. A worthless girl
soon to disappear, like a

spark that dies off when the
fuel runs out. I'm a piece

that does not fit right into
a puzzle. I'm a wanderer

longing for a resting place.
Perhaps it is better to say

goodbye now than to live
a life of hurt and emptiness.

When can I finally get to leave?