Curled up in her bed, thinking of all the possibilities. She can't breathe. She covered it up with lies to cover the truth. Because the truth was painful, and she doesn't think anyone can bear it the way she does. It burns inside her, suffocates her a little more each day. She'll die one day. Or maybe the day is tomorrow. Or maybe the day has already passed. And this is her life. 

A singer for God. A baseball jacket. My own laptop. Own a pair of Toms & Vans. Pierce my ears. Learn how to play the guitar. Dance in the rain. Ride the Tower of Terror in Tokyo Disneysea again. Master nail art. Learn how to do a french braid. I wanna be blown away, I wanna be swept off my feet, I wanna meet the one who makes it hard for me to breathe. I wanna be lost in love, I wanna be your dream come true, I wanna be scared of how strong I feel for you. I want to fall in love. I want to look at the clouds with him. I want to find myself again. I want to be happy.