you think you are alone
lost and numb to this world
but what you don't know is that i
silently send my love to you
every night in hopes that one
night you might feel it and spare
yourself the torture that plagues you

l.r.

Dear My Never,

It can be summed up easily, I never loved you. Every part of us, of you torturing me and my pretending it was all okay and I was just so in love and everything is alright because teenage heartache is beautiful--

It was *******. I hated you. Every second. And then it became some sick type of Stockholm Syndrome, where I felt connected to the peer pressure and the safety of knowing if I was still "under your spell" I could still be allowed to breathe.

Five years. Technically 4.6 years. But still, math aside, I hate you. Five years I wasted my life because peer pressure and societal norms convinced me what you did was normal.

But the indifference I feel towards you rings stronger than anything else I've ever felt. There's just nothing, and sometimes fear of the actions. Strange, but true.

Signed,
Glass half empty.

Dear Sakura,

You were my oldest and most consistent friend. Remember when I called you  toxic because I cut you out to prevent you from feeling pain when I tried to off myself, because I didn't want you at my funeral?

Remember when I got myself help so that wouldn't happen again and when I got out of the hospital you told me that I only care about myself so we can't be friends?

Part of me wants to tell you to take a nice long look in the mirror.

Part of me understands how you misunderstood what being suicidal does to a person. They cannot care about others as consistently as you need it while they're trying to find consistent hope to keep going.

And another part of me, the most influential part, understands it was necessary.

I cannot chase you, my old friend and my now nothing. I cannot chase someone who never intended on staying around.

I do not wish you harm, or ill will. I wish only the best for you, for your life. I hope you grow up quickly, we both need to. I do not think poorly of you. I am a little confused on your decisions, but I cannot bring myself to truly care. It would be harmful to my well being, and if you still cared, you'd be so proud.

We had a good run. End of freshmen year to this past May. We had a good run, I promise. Just know there had not been a person outside of my brothers and mom, until very recently, that I cared for more than I had ever cared for you.

I am glad you told me off after I got out of the hospital. It was my not wanting to hurt you again that lead me to get the help I needed. Though it stings to know you probably think poorly of me, I cannot let myself care. The closest thing I had to a sister, and the closest thing I had to someone that could understand without words (though I was wrong, you obviously needed some words from me to explain), is gone.

And rest assured, I am okay with this. We had a good run, as I said, but that was the last one. As much as I loved you and our friendship, I don't see any type of friendship for us in the future. Maybe the bad blood will go away. But I am okay without you, as I am sure you are without me.

Best wishes,
Glass Half Full

Does it stir something inside you
When you make young girls cry?

Do you use their tears as some type of lubricant
For your old and tired emotions
That you claim you never had?

What about when they sob and choke
On their words as they cling to your legs,
Repeating "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, please don't go."
Over and over and over again after you've made them feel like utter ****
At their most vulnerable point?

What about when their tears stain your shirts,
Because you held them during a nightmare
That involved you doing what you're doing
Right now?

Did you care at all?
Are you the monster you said you'd never be?
I think you are.

Because you got off
On my misery.
You wanted to fight
To feel strong.

You use self destructive tendencies
And manipulative tactics
To create fake battle scars
For a war that never happened.
A war that you're trying to start.

Get off on my scars,
Use my tears to get hot,
But know that your
Need to cause melancholic pain
Wherever you go
Disgusts me and those who know
This side of you
Will leave you,
Just as you left me.

Let my tears
Give you life
While I take my life back.

I hope the last tears I shed over you,
Make you smile.
Because you never deserved them.

I do not want
To be touched.
I do not want
You to whisper sweet nothings
Into the air,
Meant for me.

I want someone to fight the world with.
Someone to see the battle
From my eye level.
Someone to raise me up,
So I can see it from theirs.

I do not want
A lover.
I do not want
Passion.

I want fire,
And fire power.

I want a comrade in arms,
I want someone to be my equal,
I want to fight alongside
Someone in this battle of life,
And stand at their level,
And be awarded
With the same valor as them.
I want the same pain,
I want to help them with their struggles,
Because I, too, have been there and theirs.

I want to fight demons off
With a blazing dagger
To protect my friend,
My colleague,
This person I want to stand up and fight with.

Do not mistake me
For a girl who wants
To be a princess.
Who wants to be a fairy.
A goddess.

I do not need the spoils of war.
I need the breath of fresh air,
The honor,
The knowing I have done right by my friends.

I do not want things and gifts and shiny bobbles.
I want to know
That through the thick mustard gas shrouded fog,
When it clears and my vision returns and oxygen finds my lungs once more,
That I can stand by someone,
And in turn they may stand by me.

And together we will feel horror at the trenches,
But when the light of day finds us,
When the enemy's white flag is raised,
We'll have each other,
And in that, even after waking up drenched in cold sweat from the PTSD-induced night terrors,
We will have peace.