Who am I?

I'll tell you who the fuck I am.
I am the same damn dismantled red head.
I am the same fucking girl who gives all she has away and then for some stupid reason, expects the same damn thing in return.
I look for beauty even when I know its only a few feet away.
There isn't enough in this world.
There aren't enough cigarettes. There isn't enough sleep or dreams. The world need more orgasms and more drugs.
But really?
This world needs some more fucking LOVE.
The three trains that pass by my house call my name... They call me to them and then the tracks scream in pain after they leave.
My tear ducts are tired of running and overflowing, and in the end, its up to me to make them stop. Its my responsibility to tell those trains NO. Its my responsibility to make the world understand that this constant bickering, this never ending fighting doesn't HAVE to happen. We could just lay there.
I know what I want.
I just can't have it.
And my little heart wants to try and try and try while my brain is so sick and fucking tired of constantly pushing for something that just is NOT going to budge.
I'm a little girl.
I wear my heart on my sleeve and I'm always looking for something.
I don't know what I'm looking for, but if I am still looking, its obvious I haven't found it yet.
Adventure flows through my veins and I'm bored of this god damned town in this god forsaken state.
Sweat drips down my brow as I wipe it away, knowing its just going to drip again.
I keep trying to fix things that I don't even think are broken in the first place.
I'm trying to hold on to whatever has been making me feel so alive lately.
The thing is.
Everyone thinks that this shit never gets old.
It does.
Everything gets old.
And as much as I keep trying to hold on to what makes me feel so invincible...
It keeps slipping away from my grasp.
I'm still tired.
I was tired a few months ago, and I'm tired now.
All I have done is run in the same fucking circle over and over again.
I just needed the smallest favor,
and I couldn't even get that.
This world is selfish.
I'm selfish.
I am Rachel Anne Atkins.
I am eighteen years old and I have no desire to form a career.
I want to do the things I love doing, but everyone seems to prevent me from that.I have absolutely no idea what I'm even getting at.
But I do know.
That.
I'm a wreck.
And I want the things that I want, but I know I just can't have them.
So.
Whatever.