maybe i wasn't meant to be the girl
with wind blowing through her hair
laughter twinkling through her lips
gently parting to make way for another
held gently in their grasp
softly
sweetly

maybe all my destiny holds
are drunk nights and forgotten memories
fleeting glances saying
"text me.
later."
8 am bus rides in last night's clothes
never spoken of again

sometimes i'm okay with it
air finds a way in
i can scrape my body along the dirt
and the bruises don't hurt anymore

but sometimes i start to bleed
it fills my lungs
i ignore the drowning
but sometimes i get tired
of not being able to breathe