I hate seeing you.
No, I don't hate seeing you.
I hate seeing you like this.
You've been depressed.
You've been hurting and struggling.
You've been crying.
You've been writhing in the agony your mind creates for you.
You're dying.
No, you're not dying.
But you want to be dead.
You think that being dead would be better.
Better than the pain.
Better than the not knowing what's wrong but it's not.
You're broken.
Wait, you're not broken.
But you think you are.
I just want to help you.
I just want to make everything better.
I want to take the pain away.
You think you're broken, and I'd break myself to fix you.
I hate seeing you.
Like this.

The first day I had a crush.
I asked you to the dance and you said yes.
We danced so awkwardly and far apart.
Hardly talked the whole night.
And what we did say was full of nervousness.
Then next day we were together.
Well you asked the night before,
But I didn't answer you right then.
"So is this gonna be a thing?"
Seven words that would start a life time.
Then we were in love.
Like no love I had ever felt before.
I wanted to be around you 24/7.
I'd miss you when we were apart.
We had planned our future together.
Soon we had fallen apart.
Six months seemed so short.
Plans for our future,
Were no longer for us.
They were for you. And for me.
The memories of us became torture.
I cried countless times.
Now we aren't we.
I am me, and you are you.
That's how it is.
No more tears, no more sadness.
Just memories.
The memories are no longer painful.
They're happy.
You can't stay bitter all you're life.

Dear Who I could have called father,
    I’m sorry I couldn’t be what you wanted me to. I’m sorry that I wasn’t good enough for you to call me your daughter. I’m sorry that you never wanted a kid to begin with. But that is not an excuse. What you did to my brother and I was unacceptable. You hurt us. Both physically and mentally. And you hurt our mothers. You didn’t want us so you left. You moved to Florida and forgot about us. Forgot about me. But I didn’t forget about you. You left a scar inside of me. Maybe if you had stayed around, not only around me, but on the earth, you could have been happy. Maybe if you had have gotten to know me, you’d have liked me. Maybe if you were still alive you’d have come back to us, to see what I have grown up to be. Maybe, just maybe, you’d be proud of me. But you weren’t. You left us. You left us hurting. My brother won’t even talk to me anymore because I’m just another reminder of you. And I cannot call you father.
Sincerely,
        The one you could have loved.

Once upon a time, there was a little girl.
This little girl had long blond hair and blue eyes.
She never dared to wear makeup.
She had all the friends in the world.
Her little sister looked up to her.
She was a perfect little angel.
Then one day this little girl woke up.
She realized she didn’t want her long blond hair.
So she cut it and dyed it black.
She started wearing makeup, and got piercings.
This little girl realized her friends were fake.
So she got new ones.
She moved to her moms and left her little sister with her dad.
She was no longer so perfect.
But she didn’t care.
‘Cause she was finally herself.

There is oxygen
but I refuse to breathe
there is light
but I dont want to see
there is life
but it doesn’t want me