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Every once in a while
I feel the need
to embrace silence
not to rid myself of the world
but to remind myself
I exist.

- Sometimes, the noise makes me feel lost.
"She was an
unusual dresser.
Every night,
she wore bruises
on her heart,
love on her lips,
pain in her eyes,
and ink on her fingers.
They called her poetry."
I don't carry the burden of emotions
That much you should know is true
So the teardrops must be Voss water
That drenched this letter meant for you

So like the million unsaid things
Hiding behind my tight lips
And the million unsent texts
Stopping on the edge of my fingertips
I promise I too will disappear

And
Out of the million unkept thoughts
You could never guess
And the million unfelt feelings
I could never express

And out of all the things
I'll always regret
My biggest regret
Will forever be
Never showing
How Much I Loved You.
(If I have to be honest, my heart and mind are drained from today... I might not upload for a couple days as I try to get my mood right but enjoy this throwback part of a letter from elementary-version of RH. Happy Writing~BM)

(Front Page 2/18/2018)
I am no longer a child
Not the innocent, little girl I used to be
She is now but a memory
Replaced by a new face
It is unfamiliar and out of place
It's eyes so distant, they are alien
Coloured in with grey pencil
A complete contrast
To the rainbows that once filled them
They are gone now.

I miss her:the little girl
She was bright and she was bold
And I miss her
She used to wear sunshine coloured hoodies
With a smile that matched
Her happiness burned like a bonfire
Lighting up all around
She danced with no music
Sang with no song
Laughed with no reason

Her imagination ran riots
Stories flooded out of her
Tales of all kinds
Bejewelled with wild ideas
She dreamed up a new universe everyday
Explored her mind as though it was a jungle
She swung around on emerald vines
Excitedly breathing in
Every scent, every colour, every shape
Getting drunk on endless possibilities

The girl that fills the mirror smiles sadly
Her dull eyes overflowing with invisible tears
I do not know how to comfort her
She is stranger looking out at me
I choose to be blind to her mind
A war of conflict rages on in me
I am angry, red hot
Knowing she took away the sunshine
Though I feel pity, too, for the blue salt trails
That form crystals on her fading cheeks
Pity for colour she is rendered.
Part 1
(read forward, then backward, line by line)

I ran.
Not knowing what else to do
There was so much blood on my hands
It was mine
The kitchen knife
Caught in my chest
Guilt
Consumed by
Fear
I was heightened by
Adrenaline
But running on
Wasn’t enough
While trying to stay calm,
Losing control
It was me that would end up
Dead. Because
He was
In front of me
The whole time
It was too late
Trapped
I found myself
Locked in chains
My fate was
Death.
Forward: from the victims perspective.
Backward: from the murderers perspective.

This TOOK ME FOREVER TO WRITE
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