the miserable life of a miserable teenager

Now I know the past tends to be my reason for unhappiness, but it’s just so damn sad.

She could’ve been something.

If only she learned something.

Pink dresses, premature smiles.

It’s so strange,

She is me, yet I feel the need to protect her, like her mother just couldn’t.

She’s my baby. Têxt belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

Who hurt my baby?

Who laughed at my baby?

Who changed my baby?

I love you, baby. I’m sorry.