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I wish things weren't different.  
I wish things stayed the same.
But life have ways of changing.  
None of them good in any way.

I know I'm broken,  not one piece but two.  
I hope you can glue them back, good as new.
If not then you can sew the pieces back that's fine too.  

Loving me is hard, fixing the broken pieces.
In the end its worth it, you won't be let down.
Don't you worry, I'll fix you too.
You care for people who say they care for you. With your heart broken on your sleeve and a trail of tears left behind,  I walk the earth, head down, crying. I ask why it's not fair,  for people to be happy and you left broken.  All I wanted was for you to see the broken side of me but all you saw was someone to fix you.
I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.
 Dec 2018 ApocalypsenoW
Ally Ann
A friend asked me
how to be a writer.
I wanted to say,
lock yourself in a room,
scream until you have
a poem and no voice.
Open your veins and bleed
until you know that your bones
are pure words and sorrow.
Act as if you slit your own throat
and all you can bleed
are your own regrets
and all of the darkness
you boxed up for inspiration.
Write your mom a letter,
tell her you're leaving
and you won't be back for awhile
Because being a writer is traveling
through all seven layers of Hell
and denying anything is wrong.
Forget loving yourself
when all you have is a pen and paper
fused to your wrist
and Jesus is tapping at your skull
saying turn back now.
Warn the neighbors that if they smell burning
It's just your soul
clawing at the front door trying to get in.
Learn how to be alone.
Learn how to lose everything you have
in order to feel release,
learn how to only feel deceased
from now on.
A friend asked me
how to be a writer.
All I said was
don't
Why is it
that I
feel closest to you
when this
simple timestamp
appears before me?

Can you explain this digital phenomenon
that verifies your existence?

That you do
indeed
breath and eat and dream;
that radio silence
is
the most empty sound of all?

Why is it
that I
feel closest to you
when this
simple timestamp
appears before me?
A poem in "Draft" that I thought I'd share
10 years ago, you werent going to make it
5 years ago, you never pictured youd be here
1 year ago, you were facing the hardest dilema of your life
2 weeks ago, you had the worst mental break down
1 day ago, you doubted yourself
but here you are
overcoming, defeating, conquering
you think you cant
because you dont remember the times that you could and did.
you think you failed
because you don't remember the simple task you succeeded in.
You are always overcoming.
Breath.
When you feel like you cant,
look back a little.
Remember that
you can,
and
you did.
You can do it. We believe in you.
4:00am, I cried harder than I ever have
your happiness says she misses you
and I watched mine slip away.
I let my sadness spill onto a piece of paper
my blood took on the shape of words
5:30am, I let the ocean waves wash over me
wash over every place you touched
Its alright,
if she is your happiness.
My love is just enough
to let my happiness run freely to his own.

— The End —