How can a teen have the weight of the world on their shoulders?
Why do we carry so much baggage?
17 years old and I have the attitude of someone who has served in two wars
My past, no matter how recent, haunts me
And as much as I want to leave it all behind, I can't,
Because it defines me
What are we but our memories?
Our highest points and our deepest regrets,
It shapes us, whether carefree
Or a young kid eager to explore and learn
Or someone plagued by regret and betrayal
Maybe someone who was rescued from the darkness by love,
Only to be thrown back into an even darker world
We all have our stories, our bags full of what makes us who we are
So how can only 17 years of this have gone by, and my bags are overflowing?