Ever since I was a little girl, I saw things no one saw.
I always looked at the world with awe.
I saw the beauty in people who weren't loved,
In every ******, outcast, and victim.
I was isolated from the world,
For I was merely a girl.
While girls liked dolls and wanted to be Daphane from ****** doo,
I wanted to be Velma and do what all the boys wanted to do.
I robe my bike around my yard,
Even though I would fall on the rocks and hit the pavement really hard.
I had little friends,
I was weird to no end.
I tried to be normal,
I tried to catch up to the people.
However, they didn't see me,
I would just be left all lonely.
I hated elementary,
They only reminded me of being lonely.
I wanted to leave,
I wanted to be free.
I remember that wish as I hung out at the swings,
How I wished that I had wings.
I wanted escape the oppression of my school and home,
I wanted a real friends and I hoped.
Boys were always first.
At home, it was not different, they were the worst.
My older sister said that I had everything that I wanted,
That I was a spoiled brat and unwanted.
My older brother would push me and grab me by the arm,
Saying that I was in the way, causing even more harm.
My mom sided with them,
She only didn't want to get in trouble from HIM.
My dad,
The core of troubles, the only one I can't stand.
Always putting boys first,
Teaching us girls that our job was to cater to them and worst.
We had no say,
We had to do everything he wants in order to stay.
I found no beauty in the family,
It was rotten to the core, it was greedy.
I was hoping that they would see the things that I see,
Stop the nightmares from my closet from coming after me.
I wished they stopped arguing,
I wished they were a real family.
I had no escape,
I didn't even have my own dreams to escape.
I was haunted by nightmares and arguments,
I wanted them all to end.
I would watch a monster from my closet **** everyone near me,
Coming after me.
No one listened,
I was mistaken.
I grew older and eventually stopped pretending,
I shut myself in my walls and shielding.
In the 3rd grade, I stopped wearing pink,
I stopped listening.
I hid behind a frown,
I stopped chasing after the ones who weren't around.
I became an adult when I was young,
I didn't even have a childhood to be proud of.
I couldn't stop seeing beauty,
But I refused to be a victim to their cruelty.
I was an empty shell of a innocent girl,
A young soul who saw the beauty in the world.
I had kept this charade for a couple of years,
Then my wall started to get cracks and tears.
I remember people who saw me,
I remember the ones who became my friends and, later, family.
They finally came,
They finally saw me for who I am and didn't want me to change.
My walls took heavy fire,
It was weakening more than I had desired.
I was scared,
What if they didn't really care?
We went on to high school,
Still friends from middle school.
Then he came into my life,
Putting an end to my shell to hide.
My love came and pulled me out of my shell,
Promising freedom from this hell.
I couldn't believe it,
I didn't think that I was getting what I wished.
My angel with black and red wings,
He's finally come to save me.
They came to save me,
My friends and my real family.

There she stood playing a melody,
Her fingers positioned and ready.
She's such a tease as she trilled her passionate notes,
Playing songs that someone else wrote.
Her flute gleaming in the spotlight,
I love the way her lips were positioned on that pipe.
Her eyes sparkled as she ran through scales with such ease,
Her melody still haunts my dreams.
The way she blew steady air into her flute was ******,
And she continued to play notes that were chaotic.
Her fingers danced with passion over the keys,
Making me get down on my knees.
I imagined her fingers dancing upon me,
Imagining us in perfect harmony.
She gave me such a thrill,
My body is tingling with chills.
Her lips firm as she played,
Manipulating her mouth to make volume rise and finally fade.
Be mine, you free little bird,
Your song is the only one I heard.
Unleash your melody into me,
Let's make sweet harmony.
I love the way you tease me,
I love the way you play me.
I want my heart to be your flute,
Playing it to your wicked tune.
I love the way you fly,
I want to keep you as my own sweet lullaby.
Be mine, my beloved teasing flutist,
Let your melody and my background tune become sweet bliss.

I love your smile,
I love that you're wild.
I love your dark humor,
I love how you think I'm cuter.
I love your sweet words,
I love how good you make me hurt.
I love your fat,
I love your silly pretend gangster stance.
I love your saxophone playing,
I love the words you're always saying.
I love your strong arms,
I love your art.
I love your bearded face,
I love calling you my disgrace.
I love your laugh,
I love your ability to do math.
I love how you rub my belly,
I love how you always get jealous.
I love the way you hold me,
I love the way you look at me.
I love how you play magic the gathering,
I love how you wear all of my rings.
I love how you and I think alike,
I love how you don't know how to ride a bike.
I love how you sleep,
I even love how you weep.
I love everything about you,
I love you even when I'm angry or blue.
I'm weird,
You're weird.
You're mine forever,
You're my favorite.
**** those wannabes who pretend,
**** those who put you down again and again.
**** that ***** who broke your heart,
**** all those idiots who made your life hard.
For you are beautiful,
You are beauty.

Tick tock,
goes the clock.
Purr purr,
Goes the refrigerator.
Drip drip,
Goes the sinks occasional drip.
Squeak squeak,
Goes the mouse who's ever so meek.
Woof woof,
Goes the distant dog.
It's quiet now,
Only with occasional sounds.
Solitude,
Sweet, torturous solitude.
Notice how all these sounds are things I knew,
The only thing missing is you.

While some people view others as garbage, others view them as treasures. That is where the writer come in and use these measures.
We switch them to other peoples views,
Make them see something new.
We create imaginary lands and wonderful things,
Not knowing what people will think.
We paint canvases beautiful to the mind,
We create and discover with every line.
We state facts openly,
We expressed ourselves showmanly.
To some, we are a circus full of wonder and joy,
To others, we are concrete and as cruel as a bully is to any girl or boy.
A writer never sees garbage nor do they see treasure,
For beauty is something that can't be measured.
A writer is a creator,
A writer is a destroyer.
It only takes a persons view to see it,
And ultimately do something about it.

I'm tired of being strong. I'm tired of pretending who I am. I'm tired of my family saying be a doctor or dentist so they can get free visits. I'm tired of being compared to my siblings. I'm tired of being the only hope. I'm tired of college. I'm tired of this downward *****. I'm tired of being jobless. I've never had a job. I'm tired of being pressured to do great and perfect. I'm tired of being ugly. I'm tired of being the fat girl in the group. I'm tired of people taking credit for all of my hardwork. I'm tired of my family putting me as the person to blame when something goes wrong. I'm tired of hearing my dad say it's all about the money. I'm tired of hearing my mom ask if I got my financial aid check. I'm tired of my sister asking me to take care of her son. I'm tired of her telling me to work places so she can benefit. I'm tired of my brother pushing me around while the other stands around. I'm tired of my boyfriend not listening to me. I'm tired of him telling me that I act like a child. I'm tired of him saying that I shouldn't give up when he already has. I'm tired of people giving up on me. I'm tired of everything. I'm tired of life. I just want it all to go away.

I think the reason why we live is because of death. We fear death, we fear the unknown. One could even dare say the unknown is the future. It's the reason why we cling onto the past so much, we fear the unknown the most. I believe without a doubt that reincarnation happens and some could say that people's souls grow older and wiser. Yet why do people commit suicide? One could say that they are new souls, new creations of life. However as I think about it more and more, could it possibly be because the soul is starting to realize that life is too unpredictable and too unbearable? Maybe those who commit suicide are the souls who are actually a little mature. Maybe the reason why some people look forward to the future is because they are actually new souls. Then there is those who are wise beyond their years and still look forward to the future. Perhaps souls that grow too old become energy and become recreated into new souls to continue on. Perhaps the evil people with souls are being cleansed to create a new start. Perhaps that's the reason why sociopaths exist. Maybe they're just old souls who have seen many lives and are starting to lose the vitality it once had. Perhaps they are in the process of getting their souls cleansed from all they have done after they have been punished. The real reason why we would seek immortality is because we fear death. However I believe that even after we erase the fear of death, we will end up growing a new fear. Fear is inevitable. We will end up growing to fear love. Sounds funny, why would we fear love? If you're immortal, you will start to see the beauty of life and death. You will watch the people you grew up with, you laughed with, you work with, you care about, and you loved die. You will start pushing away all of them, everyone for fear of getting close. If you're immortal, that doesn't mean that you don't have a heart. Your fear of death is nothing like the fear of love. Unlike the fear of death, you will be alone if you fear love. The fear of death only makes bonds between those who also fear death. However to fear love will cause you to alienate yourself from the people around you. A soul cannot live on it's own. It will only disintegrate and get it's soul ripped inside and out. We must have death in order to live. Because life without death is miserable and lonely.