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Bailey Crawford Oct 2015
I'm thirteen years old again. Sitting in the doctors office answering the question, "have you ever thought about committing suicide?" That questions hard for me. I've thought about dying. never doing the act myself. If I was hit by a car tomorrow never waking up, I would be ok with that. The doctor ended up telling my mom I should probably talk to someone. Crushing the "perfect family, my kids are flawless" picture she wanted a second opinion. Two years went by before I got that second opinion. In those two years I cut I stopped I cut I stopped. Doctor number 2 told my mom I should talk to someone, before I hurt myself. Doctor I'm 15 years old now a freshman in high school I've been talking to someone yet I still hurt myself. No one knows! I do the walk of shame, wearing sweatshirts and long sleeves in the summer. My answer to "why" was always, "I guess I'm just cold." My mom read my poem once it mentioned cutting. When she asked me I said no, she believed me. See I was scared my mom was going to lock me up in a psych ward. Tell everyone I was in boarding school, forgetting all about the ******* child who couldn't do anything right! I'm 18 years old now, I haven't cut in 3 years. I talked to the old me today, I thanked her for letting me live. But where were you, when you found out your child was imperfect?
Bailey Crawford Sep 2014
I use to believe in God, that was until December 23. I now question my faith because of you. You left me on route one in Norwalk Connecticut scared and alone I didn't even know you left. The alcohol consumption that night was a little too high for someone to be walking home at midnight. Merry Christmas to everyone who had to realize that they're shining star died out . My shining stars light died yet for five months I thought it was still burning. You destroyed me, the words I forgive you will never roll off my tongue  being honest towards you. If I could take a trip to heaven I promise you would be sitting there with the dining table a fork and a big smile on your face. Number 41 I hate you. I hate you for leaving me on route one I hate you for making me believe I would see you soon. Yet I still love you, you're the only big brother I've ever actually had. Do you only person who ever told me I believe in you having me believe you. I love you I miss you I hope to see you soon, just not too soon okay? I will always miss you, until the day I die your smile be in the back of my head. I watch football because of you. Number 41 on the matter what team always be my favorite player. Have ever told you that I love you?
James "Kuta" Shaw died in 2011. He was hit by two cars walking home. I will miss him every day for the rest of my life.
Bailey Crawford Jun 2014
I've never lied to you before, so I promise you I won't start now. You and I, we're one of the same. Human beings, creatures that have feelings, people. I looked you in the eyes once saying, "you deserve the best". It's only taken me 17 years of my life, a year and a half of knowing you to realize I deserve the best too. See you and I, we have different best, our best is what we think we deserve. My best is someone holding my hand, leaving flowers at my doorstep, calling me asking me how my day was. My best is a friendship type of love. My best is monogamy. My best is not you. Darling, sweetheart, pumpkin, baby, boo your best is a white trash ***. Your best is getting cheated on day after day, your best is the lies. Your best is a fourteen year old who can't keep her legs close. Your best is getting pressured to have *** then winding up behind bars. Everyday I am thankful you told me we would never work out. We could never work because I am a 17 year old ****** and proud. Because I love myself more than I love the thought of being in love. Because I would never throw you away just to prove that I can. I will never be a girl who settles for anything of than the best because you taught me not to.
My first poem on here titled Dear Snowman and this poem are written about the same person.
My façade does not show
what nobody knows.
I feel deeply. People don't get that I fake a smile. I hurt like everyone else. I just don't show it.
Bailey Crawford Apr 2014
I want to hate you, for destroying my life hurting me on the inside, and sometimes outside. For making someone I care about sick, giving her an illness that will haunt her the rest of her life. All due to the fact that you don’t know how to respect women. I can’t hate you though, only for the reason that you brought me and her closer together giving us a bond no one else will ever have. I only have five words for you, “I hope you suffer forever”. Slapping you across the face etching those words into your skin never fading showing the world who you really are. Late at night when you’re holding her in your arms do you think of the two of us? The two girls you left scarred both emotionally one physically. Do you think of the three words you left me with after three years of being together, “I’m gone, bye”? You slip my mind until I say things like “bad news bear” or “sorry not sorry”. Your four year old vocabulary stuck in my mind making me someone I don’t want to be. Illiterate, ignorant, immature, and you. If I could I would blow up the necklace you gave me, rip up the card watching it burn. I already got rid of those, putting them in a box with a stamp sending them back to you with a note saying, “I don’t want to remember you”. Yet those pictures I took when we were video chatting while you were in another girls bed are still on my phone. I want you gone, not just physically or emotionally but also mentally. I want someone to fry my brain so the last three years are all just a big blur. I remember it perfectly the day we first talked I messaged you on facebook apologizing for your girlfriend breaking up with you. We talked on the phone from noon to nine, you cried over her. That wasn’t the only time you cried over another girl to me. We were dating for 2 months you called me crying missing the same girl saying you love her, miss her wanting her back. I put the phone down doing what you normally do, I played a little xbox. Pretending every alien I killed was you, that’s all I wanted to do, go to your house and **** you. Making it so I never had to hear my boyfriend cry over another girl unless it was his mother. Excuse me for not wanting to be your best friend, excuse me for wanting to hate you, excuse me for wanting to **** you. I would have whispered you stardust, if only you had given me the chance.
The other girl I talk about is now my best friend. She has nerve damage on her left side due to constant stress over a long period of a time. This poem is for her.
Bailey Crawford Feb 2014
I was going through our closet today.
Folders filled with pages of us are everywhere.
This, is how I know we existed.
I cried ya know,
dropping you off at college
was the first time in 6 years I had to admit
you were gone.
PLEASE COME BACK!
I remember the barbie doll house,
the polly pockets and bratz.
That's where you are.
I shoved you in a box filled with our toys
that we stilled played with when we were children.
You're stuffed away in our attic,
I'm scared to open the door,
scared your ghost will come out and haunt me,
PLEASE COME BACK!
I was nervous,
that's the only reason I hurt you.
Do you remember when I was little,
leaving bite marks and bruises,
you were my safety when I was scared.
PLEASE COME BACK!
You use to be too scared to leave me,
you wanted me at your side,
all day all night.
Now the thought of being in the same room as me,
makes you sick.
Where did we go wrong?
When will you get over me embarrassing you
6 years ago?
When will I be able to say "I love you"
having you say it back,
without me bursting into tear?
PLEASE COME BACK!
If I could take away your pain
making everything a dream,
please know I would.
Bonded by blood,
separated by differences.
Lexi I love you,
sisters forever.
*PLEASE COME BACK TO ME.
Bailey Crawford Feb 2014
A box, that’s all I was left with when I was seven. A box of trouble, pain that haunts me in my sleep waking me up gasping for air. Daddy come back, come back to the house of yesterday where the grass is green, the sky the most perfect shade of blue. Daddy I miss you, I’m stuck here wondering what I did wrong to make you run away. Daddy where are you? My fist are red from bleeding, raw, from beating myself down. My head has open wounds from pounding it against these clean white walls hoping. praying to God they fall down, bringing you back to me. We grew up without a dad, he was somewhere else, too busy for us. Daddy, when are you coming home, do you miss me at all? Daddy you came back, you’re not really here though. You being gone changed you somehow. Look at me! Do you recognize me?Can you remember all of the things we use to do? Do you only remember the bombs, guns, and violence you’ve been around for the last two years? I’m sorry you had to be around that Daddy, even more sorry I lost you in the process. I’m no longer the little girl you thought I would be. I grew up fighting to survive, not being able to trust anyone. I get in trouble and cuss when I get mad. I’m sorry Daddy, please don’t be disappointed. I’m sixteen now, still haunted by those nightmares of you leaving. The box is the same nine years later, in the dream you’re leaving again. You promise me it’ll only be for a little. Daddy I’ve lived this nightmare before and we know it will be awhile before I can hug you again! Dear Mr. President, bring my father home, end this war. All it’s done is tear families apart, ruining the lives of the little ones growing up in the middle of it. I hate you, I hate you for everything you’ve put me through! I’ll never want to travel to Iraq, they knocked down our towers making you leave! They’re the reason I don’t have my Daddy anymore. So forget everything you do to make it so I can sleep peacefully at night! You may have brought his body back in one piece, but, his mind has never been the same since that deployment nine years ago.
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