Unexpected and now I’m afraid
You said you’d never hurt me but guess that wasn’t true
One little fight spiralled Out of control and now we’re both alone
Wish I’d never said I love you, wish I’d never even met you

This is my first love, my first heartbreak, a puzzle that I just can’t solve. My chest is tight and my heart aches, I thought together that we’d grow old.

Trying to figure it out, but I just can’t. I’m confused and scared and all these questions keep rushing through my head. Was it me or my insecurities, was it something more or was it someone else. It wasn’t good enough but for me it was true love

This is my first love, my first heartbreak, a puzzle that I just can’t solve. My chest is tight and my heart aches, I thought together that we’d grow old.

All I feel is your touch across my body like an infection, they say I’ll get over it but I just want you near, you’re my addiction. The memory of your laugh and smile pulls me from sleep for a little while. Hold me in your arms and tell me you love me then next day push me from your arms and tell me you’re done with me.

This is my first love, my first heartbreak, a puzzle that I just can’t solve. My chest is tight and my heart aches, I thought together that we’d grow old.

19 and held down by her shoulders
her shirt still on, he doesn’t try to remove it
it’s a hastily act that wakes her up abruptly as a penetrating pain spreads over a low section of her body
she feels like a ragdoll so out of control, like she can’t scream for help because she didn’t say no to the first or second time but now she’s asleep and surely that’s a sign
his hands on her neck and she thinks it’s just ***** but it’s to muffle her cries and make him seem less guilty
it’s the third man she’s been with and she’s confused about counting it, she didn’t say yes but she still has to guess whether she should remember this and try to grow or remember it and let it cover the glow

Beware his smile that traps all the girls around him
Regret the feelings that you wish you could forget
Envy the girl with her arms around his neck
Never look back it’ll only break your heart more
Deny that you still love him, it’ll only cause you pain
Envy the girl with her arms around his neck
Never forget how it felt when he called you stunning even if it hurts

Who have I become, I don’t like this version of myself, the version of myself that you have pushed me to become.
We spoke 24/7 let me say that again 24/7… twenty-four hours seven days a week for nearly a year and then it just stopped.
Did you get bored?
Did you finally have enough of messing with the feelings of a girl who was completely and hopelessly devoted to you.
You moved on and I hated you for it. I hated you because I was still completely and hopelessly devoted to you, I still had hope that it was all a bad dream and I would wake up to sunshine and glow instead of the clouds of grey that now “shine” over my life.
I saw you for the first time the other day since, well since, that day when time stopped and I stopped dead in my tracks when I got the message “this girl I’m seeing.”
Those four words tore me and I could feel the physical pain of heartbreak. That’s when everything changed, I became a person that I look at in the mirror and don’t feel anything towards.
I used to look every morning and hope.
People have an ideology about hope that it looks and makes you look beautiful and youthful, almost innocent, but hope as far as I’m concerned can go and take a hike.
Hope was the shackles that caged me from being the true me. Now I said at the beginning that I don’t like this version of myself.
This is still true but I’ve grown comfortable with being her and that ones on you.

I sat on the side of the hospital bed waiting for the tubes to be removed
I sat on the side of the hospital bed praying for you to breathe
I sat on the side of the hospital bed hoping for you to live
I sat on the side of the hospital bed happy your pain had been relieved

They said it’s okay to be sad

I sit on the side of your grave praying for a sign
I sit in the rain praying for more time
I sit in the coffee shop reading a book I thought you might like
I sit in an office waiting for a chat

They say that crying helps

I cry out to the heavens why
I cry out if you love me then why did you leave
I cry and sob and break

I sat on the side of your hospital bed, I sit in the rain, I cry out for help

I wish that I could forget
Forget everything from the pain you caused in my head to the pain you’ve caused in my chest
Just a general pain that I wish I could forget

I wish I could forget
Forget the way you’ve looked at me when you think I’m not focused
Forget the smile plastered on your face to the tears that roll down mine
These things that I wish I could forget

I wish that I could feel something
Feel anything
My heart is broken, my trust demolished and everyone is now stuck an arm’s length away
I wish that I could stop feeling this numb

I wish that could close my eyes
Close them without an image of you finding its way into my mind
Your sea blue eyes matched with beach blonde hair, that I said I never liked
I wish that I could close my eyes

She wears long sleeves to hide her scars he smokes a cigarette in the back of his car. They’ve been pushed to the point of wanting it all to end. They have an unborn child which they don’t know yet, it was a one night stand that left her with regret.

They don’t feel like they can raise a child but those two pink lines make her feel better now, it’s a fresh start and a second chance for him to be a better man than what he is now and what his father was growing up a chance to wake up every morning next to the woman he loves.

She’s afraid of the mother she will be, afraid that her little girl will be sitting in her room alone comforted by an empty bottle and a blade with so many tears streaming down her child’s face just like hers did.

9mm that’s the size of a bullet fired by police,
It could be in self-defence,
It wouldn’t matter.

Cameras and press are pressed for time and need to get a front-page article out,
“Chicago policeman shoots man” is what they go with
Never mind that man killed three girls aged 10 – 12 but not before they were violently abducted.
Police to avoid this happening to another child raided the house with the wallpaper faded.
He shot at them first and when the policeman fired back he signed his resignation because no-one wanted to hear his apology in front of the whole nation.

NRA and the 2nd amendment are giving everyone an easy excuse,
It’s written into the constitution therefore it must be okay,
But let me tell you something real quick:
Slavery was legal
Segregation was legal
Does that make it okay?
And here is where we sit right now on that fine line of it being moral and it being legal

A girl lies naked, bruised and bleeding on the bathroom floor. She’ll say she was ***** but it’ll be her who’ll take the fall. The football team will still play that Friday night and she’ll be accused of telling hysterical lies.
“She was breaking the dress code” you were breaking the law, violation of the law gets you a court sentence but rich parents get you good lawyers who get you off free, she’ll never be free to walk the streets home alone fearing that every time she looks into a man’s eyes she will see the image of you as she prayed for help but was instead preyed on by the Prom King Predator.

Her bruises whether they be physical or not are hers to reveal and if you feel the need to go around telling her story then you’re an ***, “she had a sweet ***” you had sweet talk which made her feel safe and then suddenly she felt betrayed. So she’s a ***** if she sleeps with a guy even if it wasn’t consensual but when you sleep with a girl you’re a playa and did a good job on hitting that; you going to bang her? ***** her? Nail her?

The words used to describe it are almost as violent as the act done upon her.

There was pain in her voice but her body betrayed her, it portrayed pleasure when all she felt was agony. The pain in her voice was clear to those around her but the pleasure was all they focused on, the pleasure is what caused her the feeling of being ashamed for the next four years until she could open up to someone.

Around school she was known as the quiet girl, the girl without a story, this was true in a sense because her story like most was never told.

The girl who was strong, her body parts strength shining through on her face

The girl who was strong, her smile sending goose bumps over every one’s arms

The girl who was strong, her heart beating slowly as she lay down for bed

The girl who was strong, her mother watched over stroking her bald head

The girl who was strong, and she never woke up

The girl who was strong, just not strong enough