Faded blue jeans

My washed out life

Is like a faded new pair of jeans

Scraped, torn, stained

This is all of what makes me

People come and people go

And some leave memories

My life is like…

A book with no ending

In fact, some pages are ripped out

But that doesn’t stop me

My world is scripted

Of words and numbers

That fade with each day

21, depression, undergrad

With these things

That I call me

Are all just parts

Of my washed out life