“go ahead, my dear, be safe.” said my mother to my younger sister. her nails were painted red and her voice was softer than ever. you could tell she was holding back tears. my sister had been waiting for this day for awhile, but everyday it pained my mother more and more to know that her little baby would be flying across the country on her own.
i wish i was musical. i never really stuck with any instrument i played.
the girl ran her fingers through her hair while sitting at the piano, the stress of this situation was just too intense. her musical talent seemed to fade day by day, it seemed impossible to write one line anymore, let alone 15 songs.
i applied the makeup to my face, still only showing a lost and lonely expression.
this depression really is killing me.
i try and try and try to get better, or at least i think i’m trying.
but then i look back on it to find that i haven’t really tried at all.