dear...
frien-
i don't know if i could call you that.
a friend.

we've had our disputes.
you and i stood face to face,

eye to eye,

and i could do nothing but hate everything about you.

i'm sorry.
i'm sorry that you've had to live this life of mine.
your body held a paper soul,

it burned over even the lightest flame...

please,
do not think that that makes you weak.

i'm sorry,
that you stand in a constant state of hesitance.
not all people are cruel, you know...

but you don't,

because the world has taught you otherwise.

i'm sorry,
because once...

once upon a sometime,
you could see only the best.
when all those who were close to you left,

so did your purpose.

the fire in your eyes sputtered out,
extinguished by the person you loved.

do not let others define you,
for that will be your downfall.

you are so much more.

i'm sorry,
because i shaped you into the person you became,
because i gave up on you so fast.

i was so eager to try to leave you behind.

i never should have tried.

sometimes,
i smile at the mirror,
to remind myself that i can.
because i've forgotten what it feels like.

sometimes,
i spend hours repeating the same phrase in my head,
just to make sure it sounds right.
"hi... could i please have the-"
it never does.

sometimes,
i stare at the crimson lines on my wrists,
and try to convince myself that they're beautiful.
no one else thinks that though,
so why should i?

sometimes,
i check my pulse,
because i need to know that life is temporary.
i need to know that one day it'll be over.

sometimes,
i stare at my reflection,
but i don't recognize the girl looking back at me.
why is she so broken?
she follows me like a ghost.

sometimes,
the time passes so slow,
that a minute feels like a day,
and i wonder if it'll ever end.
will it ever end?

sometimes,
i wake up with tear stains on my pillow,
blood soaked sheets.
i don't remember though.
regret is not an easy feeling to deal with.

sometimes,
i watch mouths move in front of me,
but the screams in my head take up too much space.
so i hear nothing.
"can you repeat that please?"
"sorry."

sometimes,
my hands are raw and tired, scratched away to nothingness.
"how'd you get that burn?'
all i can say is that it was an accident.
was it?

sometimes...
sometimes a lot of things.
sometimes i wish i wasn't here.
sometimes my body doesn't feel like mine.
sometimes i want to cut the pain out of my body.
is that possible?
sometimes.

if i took my life,
the clouds would continue to form,
and the earth would still spin like it always has.
every day,
millions of children would take millions of buses to millions of schools,
and no one would know my name or my story.
no one would care enough to try to learn it.

if i took my life,
they'd light a candle or two in memory,
but only for a day.
girls with fake tears would claim they cared about me.
i had never talked to them before.
still, they'd lie.

if i took my life,
every flower would continue to grow,
every tree would still stand tall.
every child would look up into their mother's eyes, just the same as always.
the world wouldn't change because of another death, another loss.
and i'd be happier.

happier than i am now, at least.

three bright summer days,
letting myself fall for you...
what a sad mistake.

her face reminded me of winter,
beautiful and serene one moment,
cold and unforgiving the next.