the things we said we'll never be,
i fear, is what i am slowly becoming.
though, now i understand.
i understand how easy it is
to slip into a state like this.
how easy it is to be a "fake *****,"
or ***, ****, a depressed "emo."
i've become what i pledged i would never be,
now i understand why you left me.
you're just like me, searching for popularity,
attention.
we're all just self-medicating for something
we can't quite describe.
sometimes, i wonder,
do the others feel the same things i do?
do they become *** holes to self-medicate?
i suppose i'll never find out.