Meena-Charlie

As I sit on my bedroom floor, The violent music playing softly in the background, Erratic drum beats keeping my rhythm unsteady and unstable, I sway my head back and forth, Rocking out of sync, As my hands work quickly, In hopes to see you as soon as I can manage, Though I know our chances are slim, And that your feelings have probably long since faded, I continue on, Holding tight to my one last shred of hope, For a future, For happiness. The dress I wear is somber and black, Trying to hold down my dreams, Telling myself no, That it's not possible, But my spirits are flying high, I despise my false hope with all my heart,