I like to think I'm mysterious dark leave you delirious like a dream but I'm just a ****** up girl, not a French girl, just a girl with wide eyes on SSRIs who wishes she could do pills again so that she could fly and people tell me I look like a model- a model of what? Of what not to do in life? Of ******* yourself? Of how to crumble like a $5 forever 21 highlighter in the sun and play with guns and have too much fun until the crash hits and the cigarette's lit and the mania wears off and it's just me myself and I all alone at home thinking of the next girl or guy, I'm not a French girl- I'm a throw a wrench in it girl, I smell like stress sweat and unpaid rent and guerlain perfume that I can't afford and all I want is to drown because I'm so ******* bored with FEELING! LIKE! ****! take another hit in the self esteem, an indica dream and cry in the shower where they can't hear you scream, no brother no father just a deadbeat daughter with eyeliner that slaughters and way too many people who've been beating up on her