I’m scared .

I’m wobble .

I don’t know what kind of live that I live .

It seems so easy ,

but actually it’s not .

I confused with my ownself .

Should I cry ?

Should I run away ?

Should I bear all the pain ?

I am . . .

I am a little kids who frightened with my own future

I am a wobble tenderling who trapped in a body of an adult .

I am never growing up ,

always scared ,

I miss my home

I’m going home, back to the place where I belong ,

And where your love has always been enough for me .

I’m not running from,

No .

I think you got me all wrong ,

I don’t regret this life I chose for me

But these places and these faces are getting old

So I’m going home


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