Leaving.

Leaving this empty house.

Where I’ve trapped myself.

In a room.

All alone.

Feeling helpless.

Alone.

Angry.

Sad.

Depressed.

Finally deciding to do things for myself.

Finally realizing I’m more.

I’m meant to do more.

Be more.

See more.

Love more.

Hate less.

Cry less.

Feel good enough.

Good enough for the world.

For myself.

I wish I could leave.

But it feels like someone’s locked the door.

I’m ready to go do something.

Experience something.

Feel something.

Be something.

Something real.

Someone who’s not afraid.

I wish I had something.

Anything.

I want to go to New York.

I want to go to my first concert.

I want to leave my house for a full week.

I want to meet new people.

I want to learn to drive.

But I’m stuck in this cycle.

Of never moving.

Like I’m sitting in the corner staring at the door.

Wishing it would come to me.

Wishing I had the strength to go towards it.

Because whenever I try,

Whenever I feel a glimpse of something,

I’m pulled back,

Before I can even reach it.

(Note: I wrote this while crying so please excuse the messiness of it XD. I just learned my sister might go to Broadway and my family will just kind of leave me here, so maybe that’ll give you some perspective… anyway sry for dumping this on u guys I'm so annoying 😆

Go check out my awesome friends and inspirations, Katelyn Cherry, Just Another Teenage Girl, Luna, issywritess, Stella, and GladerGirlA5. Their stories r amazing.

Love u all, don't worry, crying is my fav hobby ♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎)