What I write
might not be read
I won't be put off
nor be hurt

for to write
is to lift me
beyond myself
and to set me free

Hello Elena how are you doing
I must say that those idiots got to you
As you are not FBI as I hoped to be
But instead an artist and writer
Bold choice!  This right now is the pits for
Me.   School they don’t accept me and they
Make me look crazy! Instead of someone
Who wants to make a difference.   Can you try
To be a polygraph examiner, but I you want to
Be creative I understand as that the bullying is intense.
You say it will get better, I hope it will
I am writing this as I am crying my self to sleep
I believe it will get worse before it gets if any better
So many psychopaths that I have to deal with
It is sai to be honest.   Will I ever have friends
Or will I disappear!    I hope I don’t, please learn
From me!

Me as a fourteen y/o

Darling,
Do you remember the picnic we had by the sea?
You told me,
To wait there for you.
Darling,
Where are you?
I'm still waiting,
In the same spot you told me to.

I dont want your love

Dislike your attention

Do everything I can

To push away your affection

Boy get the hint because

I'm not going back in time

To when you treated me like ****

I
W
  i
   s
   h
    Y
     o
      u
       W
        o
         u
          l
           d
            L
             i
              s
                t
                 e
                   n
                      M
                         o
                           r
                            e
                              A
                                ­ n
                                   d
                                     Y
                                       e
                                         l
                                          l
                                           L
                                            e
                                             s
                                              s

As I see my self as a fourteen year old
I see that she was week of heart beaten
Like a dogs as I see her try to fight back
Not just for her dignity but also her dream
She finds her self getting into trouble
Her dreams crushed by bullying
As I try to talk to my younger self
I will have to tell them that it will get
Worse before it even gets better
It brakes my heart but then
I say it will get better sooner
Then later…..but she does not believe
Me but I can not push her to believe
She will have to experience the goodness at
Some point in life

Broken, a dove lay.
Crimson blood stains her wings red.
Surly love was the cause.