Dear soulmate,

There's a lot of stuff happening right now.
Lots of things are going wrong,
Falling apart,
Or just becoming visible to people who didn't believe in them before.
And even now,
As things we didn't think could happen are happening,
As things are changing in the world,
People will still tell me soulmates don't exist.
And as is the usual,
I won't believe them.
They've been wrong before, right?

I know you're out there.
And I know that I love you.
I don't know what color your eyes are,
But I know I'll love staring into them for as long as I can.
I don't know what kind of music you like yet,
Or what kind of movies you like,
Or if you like to read like I do.
I don't know if you like to travel
Or if you're stuck in your hometown because you just don't want to leave.
I don't know if you're struggling right now or not.
I don't know how old you are
Or what color you are
Or even what gender you are really
But I KNOW that you are out there.
And I know I'll find you one day.

But until then,
Don't be dumb.
Stay safe and stay kind.
We could have a competition to see who finds the other first.
But even if we don't,
I just can't wait to meet you.
Until then,
I love you.
Keep being you.

With Love,
       Your soulmate

Dear Corona,
I would like to write this letter to you to express my absolute contempt at your taking over of our world. The death needs to stop. All the people you are removing from their jobs and the pay that thus keeps them afloat. All the people stuck in their homes without the medical attention they need because something bigger and stronger is out there.
I am angry. I am absolutely outraged at the way the citizens of my species have been treated. As a senior in high school, I have been removed from many people I love.
I will never get a senior prom. It's up in the air whether my graduation will take place online. Whether I will ever have a commencement. Whether I will ever have a chance with the boy I like before I leave. I may never have a graduation party, and I barely got a senior musical. I may never get a senior season in the sport I love most. I may not see my friends again until it's too late and we all have to say goodbye, until we meet again, which may be never.
But none of that is what I am angry about.
I am angry that you took away my knowledge. I never knew my lasts were my last. My last musical performance. My last dance at prom. My last hello to my best friend. My last walk through the halls of my school. My last hello to my teachers. I didn't even know they were my last. I said "See you on Monday." I said "I'm excited to do this again." I walked out, without a single thought of whether I would walk back in. I walked out of my last practice, my last class, and my last day. And I didn't even know it yet. You didn't even let me know.
Dearly Signed,
One Person,
Out of Millions Who You Have Made Feel Like This

P.S. You ****

IN THIS CORNER:
A hard-hitting, man-breaking machine,
Who has a long history of breaking its opponents.
A history that includes tearing its opponents apart from the inside,
Making them have mental breakdowns in the ring,
And making sure they stay down for the count.
This is ANXIETY!!

AND IN THIS CORNER:
One (1) high school girl with a bad history full of toxic friends,
Unsupportive family members,
And mental breakdowns.
She's 5'1",
180 pounds,
And ready to take on anxiety with all she has.

OOH!
Anxiety comes in with its famous hard-hitting blow:
Leaving for college.

AND ANOTHER!
Another famous move,
Following in the footsteps of a friend of its,
Social anxiety!!

The girl is down.
She's too tired to fight.

WILL SHE GET UP?
WILL SHE KEEP FIGHTING?
TUNE IN AFTER THIS COMMERCIAL BREAK TO FIND OUT.

Why didn't anyone tell me
That being "mature for my age"


Was actually just depression
Speeding up my mind's age.

I've always separated sections of my life
By who I loved most.

First, it was my dad.
He was my hero.

Then my mom.
She was my everything

Then, my brother.
My best friend since his birth.

Then, it was a boy I met at school.
He made me feel smart.

And after that, a boy I met at camp.
He made me feel content.

Following that, it was another boy from school.
The first one to make me feel pretty.

Then another boy in my class.
He made me feel alive.

Then, it was my grandparents.
They gave me everything I ever needed.

Then, it was some boy who made me laugh
And another who included me.

And then another who I thought would be my friend forever
But he left me behind as soon as we were apart.

For a long time after that, it was my best friend.
She makes me feel loved.

And then suddenly,
Like a flash of lightning.
The person I loved most
Was me.

I became everything I wanted to be.
Everything I needed.

But after a while, the person I loved most became him.
The boy I loved all my life.
The one who was my hero
And my everything
My best friend.
With him,
I'm smart.
I'm happy.
I'm pretty.
I'm lively.
I have everything I need.
I'm included.
I am loved.

But most of all,
I am myself.

Maybe,
Just maybe,
The timing is finally right.
For me to be who I want to be.

Maybe all it took was for me to love myself first.

I've always wondered
What it would be like.
To be in love with someone
Who doesn't like art.

Someone who hates the way music flows
Who can't draw a line as anything but straight.
Who can't see the beauty of the world,
Who hates the way words string along.

I think I'd hate it.
I don't know how someone could hate
The way a pencil glides across a page
Or the way clashing notes solve themselves into harmony.

I don't see how you could hate the colors of the sky
Or the contrast in someone's hair.
Or the way a poem feels
I don't think I can understand that kind of love

Everyone knows love stems from hate
What did art do to you?

What if we are
Like universes crossing

Eerily similar
But not the same
We're the same in almost too many ways
For it to be just a coincidence

We've met and re-met too many times
For it to not be fate

What if our timelines are linked
Just not in the way we want them to be

What if I never see you again?
I would much rather spend every day

Noticing your eyes
And smiling because they stay the same

As the sun rises on another day,
I feel my heart grow lighter.
As the sun rises yet again,
My heart falls.

As the sun rises in the east,
I feel a smile grow on my cheeks.
As the sunrise shines,
I feel tears glisten in the sun.

As the moon sets,
I am finally free.
As the sun grows,
I wonder which loss is worse.

It's crazy.
One second goes by.
And suddenly you're in a new second
A new minute,
A new hour,
A new day,
A new year,
And a new decade.

All at the same time.

I've tried a million times not to think of anything
Not when I write.
I've tried blocking things out,
Listening to music,
Talking to people,
Singing a few notes,
Writing out a song,
Working on homework,
But nothing gives me inspiration more than you.

I get inspiration at random times and I write it out.
Once I wrote a full poem, a deep one, but I reloaded the page and couldn't remember what it'd said
When I woke up the next morning realizing I'd had no wi-fi.
I write for myself,
That's what I say,
But I write for other people,
Things I wish I could say,
Things I'm too scared to say.

I'm not even counting stanzas anymore,
Just writing without a care.

I could write about how my birthday's in two days,
How my parents are tearing me apart,
How school is breaking me down,
How my best friend likes a guy who liked me,
How my friends are going through a ****** assault crisis
That happened a year ago,

But I write for you instead,
Wishing I told you I liked you,
Wishing I could ask you to homecoming
Wishing I could ask you to hang out,
Wishing I could be less awkward,
Wishing we hadn't been called out,
Hoping we won't by another,
Wishing I could look at you without her telling me not to,
Wishing you didn't have a girlfriend.

I like you a lot and I don't know what to do
Because someone else likes you too,
So we're going to stay friends,
For as long as it takes.
For you to like me back,
Or me to get over you.

I LIKE talking to you every day.

I LIKE making eye contact with you like we’re sharing an inside joke

I LIKE hearing you laugh and seeing you smile

I LIKE boosting your confidence

I LIKE that you boost mine the same way

I LIKE that you look me in the eyes when we talk

I LIKE talking to you about things that are happening in my life

I LIKE that you’re my best friend

I LIKE you

I just want to ask you out already

But I don’t know how to

I grew up thinking love *****
My parents loved each other
And they fought and
My mom cried
My dad yelled
My mom lied

I still thought love *****
I went into my first relationship
But he just wanted to be worshipped
For his pretty eyes
And his pretty hair
But all he wanted
Was the one thing I wasn't willing
To give him

Now,
I spend my days looking at you
And seeing you looking back
You treat me like a queen,
Like I am worthy of praise
I feel safe
I feel warm
I feel hopeful
Is this what love feels like?

Yawns are contagious,
And so are colds.

And apparently,
So are smiles.

I fell for you like a child
But I really didn't mind
Because no matter how much
I changed
And no matter how much
You changed
We were always just
You and me

It's funny how often your brain will let you be dumb
It's funny how long you've been in my head
It's kinda funny how often I think of you
It's funny that you wouldn't say yes

Oh, and don't worry
When I say it's funny
I really mean it isn't
So don't go thinking this isn't serious

I like you
I like you
I like you
I like you

My brain isn't letting me forget it
One look at your smile and I'm done for
One look in your eyes and it's over
Please don't make my brain regret it.

I know it's not Halloween yet
But would you be my boo?

I know I’ve lost too much.
But I’ve gained even more than I had.
I don’t miss the person I was.
I really like the person I am.

I’m confident and strong.
I don’t need your opinion.
I love myself more each day
And I can’t say I don’t like living this way.

This week was not my week.
I’ve cried almost four times today.
I wish I could say I was fine.
But I’m really not just okay.

I need to find something concrete.
Not someone to sweep me off my feet.
I need something to help me stay steady.
And maybe a boy when I’m ready.

But not today,
Not right now.
I don’t need your love
I have my own power.

I’m focused on me,
Not your hair or face.
I have things to do.
Just get out of my way.

Some people's eyes remind you
Of dark chocolate mixed with caramel.

Some remind you of the way the color of trees
Blend together in the breeze.

Some remind you of a summer day
When the sky is blue.

But some remind you of clouds before a storm
Or the color of titanium when it's cold.

Some make you think of grass
When it's freshly sprouted in someone else's yard.

Some people's eyes just remind you
That they're full of crap

It's always funny
When something you thought you didn't need
Disappears for a while
And you realize how attached you really were.

Pt. 1: Boys are frustrating
Pt. 2: I'm bad at ring tosses
Pt. 3: Cute boys make me more nervous than cute girls do
Pt. 3 Pt. 2: Cute girls make me nervous too
Pt. 4: Learning new things is hard but fun
Pt. 5: It is possible to be addicted to coffee creamer
Pt. 6: Don't be ashamed if your "type" changes. It's allowed to.
Pt. 7: If someone asks you out, don't make it weird. Especially if you're friends. It'll make it worse.
Pt. 8: If you don't like someone, don't say yes when they ask you out even if they offer to take you to olive garden.
Pt. 9: If someone brings out a happier version of yourself, a non-fake happy version of yourself, spend time with them. Especially if it's mutual.
Pt. 10: Time heals some things, but not everything, and even with time, you won't forget.
Pt. 11:  People can change a lot over a year.
Pt. 12: Friends that will stay up late with you and pause their games to look at your memes (even if they aren't that funny) are the best ones.
Pt. 13: Don't get attached too quickly. People leave and people live far away and people change.
Pt. 14: Sometimes people aren't as great as your mind makes them out to be, but sometimes people are a lot worse than your mind makes them out to be.
Pt. 1; pt 2: Boys aren't always frustrating. Sometimes you just are.
Pt. 15: Having long-distance friends is hard, but at least when you graduate they won't disappear along with your other friends.
Pt. 16: Everyone is insecure. No one believes in perfection.
Pt. 17: Everyone has something going on with them. You have to treat everyone with kindness or you'll get nowhere.
Pt.18: Some people **** regardless of how nice you are to them.
Pt. 19: Sometimes even your favorite people will disappoint you. Don't hang onto it too much it'll just make it hurt worse.
Pt. 20: If you're good at being happy, life will make it so you aren't happy.

Love is waking up and having the first person you think of being them.
Love is the person whose happiness you wish for at 11:11.
Love is the way you look at them and smile
Love is being more comfortable with someone than without them.

But sometimes love is none of those things.

Most times it isn’t love at first sight, it takes time.
Sometimes it’s someone you don’t want to fall in love with.
Sometimes it is.
Sometimes it’s the person you least expect it to be.
Sometimes it surprises you.

Love isn’t out of the blue,
And it usually doesn’t happen right away.
It could be an instant connection, but trust takes time to build.
Love takes effort.
You have to give all you have into it.

Sometimes you won’t get anything back.

Maybe that silence seems awkward.
Maybe it's not.

Maybe it's just empty space.
Maybe it's devoid of everything that could fill it.

Maybe it's just lacking sound.
Maybe the wanting to speak is still there.


Silence isn't always empty space.

I like who I am with you.

I like to laugh.

And I like your laugh.

I like being nerdy.

And I like how nerdy you are.

I like being happier

And I like seeing you happy.

I like being myself.

And I really like you.

Every time I try,
I get this feeling in my stomach.
Some say they're butterflies.

But if you would call them butterflies,
They must be malicious ones,
Swarming and making me feel sick.

They're trying to **** me,
Sometimes I think.
Maybe it's for the best.

Maybe the butterflies are right,
And I should stop trying
But I hope they aren't.

The sweetest butterflies,
The ones that flutter and glitter,
They come when I'm around you.

Yelling won't help me
Unless you think I'm right,
I'll be yelling into unlistening space,
And you won't hear a word.

You’ll never know how much those words hurt
Because every time I say they do,
You push them back in my face,
Saying my independence will hurt you.

You steal my self-sufficiency,
And tell me I need your help.
I need you to meddle in a situation,
A situation I just fixed from you.

You tell me I don’t need to work so hard.
But hard work is how you get good things.
And I want this.
More than before.

I WANT TO DO MY OWN WORK

I want to make my own decisions,
And not feel bad for making them.

I want my independence back.
And I will do what it takes.

Those thoughts fill my head
Not always when I'm laying in bed.
They overwhelm my mind,
Make rationality much too hard to find.

I can't stop rambling,
And they don't interrupt me.
They've already tried scrambling,
To help me, you see.

They've become adjusted to the fact that they can't.
The fact that they can't do anything.
They've tried hard and become frantic,
They've tried nearly everything.

But then he's there and they disappear.
All my thoughts fade to his voice.
I listen and my rationality reappears
He was always the only choice.

But now he's gone.
He doesn't say my name anymore.
It hasn't even been very long.
But those thoughts were the waves,
And he was the shore.

You look me in the eyes and ask why not
But I wonder why

You ask me how I know,
But I wonder why I wouldn't.

You ask me why I'm me
I wonder why I wouldn't be.

If you keep telling me to be quieter,
  Maybe I’ll stop talking.

     If you keep telling me you can’t hear me,
     Maybe I’ll finally yell.

        If you keep telling me I’m being dramatic,
        Maybe I’ll stop telling you things.

           If you keep telling me I’m fine,
           Maybe I’ll show you I’m not.

              If you keep telling me I’m confused,
              Maybe I’ll figure it out.

                 If you keep telling me I’m stupid,
                 Maybe I’ll be smart enough to leave.






                 Maybe I’ll be smart,
                 If you stop telling me I’m stupid.

               Maybe I’ll figure things out,
               If you stop telling me I’m confused.

            Maybe I’ll be fine,
            If you stop telling me I am when I’m not.

          Maybe I’ll tell you things,
          If you stop telling me I’m dramatic.

        Maybe I’ll stop yelling,
        If you stop telling me you can’t hear me.

      Maybe I’ll keep talking,
      If you stop telling me to be quiet.

She was your water,
But I could see the salt.

She was your heartbeat,
But I'd spilled the blood.

She was your siren,
But I was the shipmate.

She was your song,
But I knew all the words.

She was your heaven,
But I'd faced the hell.

She was your star,
But I could feel the heat.

She was the moon,
And I was Mercury.

I was always closer,
But she always felt the light.

I was your best friend,
But she was yours.

The girl sat on her floor with tears,
Water that flooded her vision,
And made her reality blur.

The colors swirled around her,
But she knew she still sat on the bedroom floor.

The tears made the clothes take his form,
Made the carpet flatten under him,
Made the paint on the walls show his fingerprints.

The blankets on the bed had him under them again
The books on the shelves were in his hands
The stories inside them were written in his voice

He leaned against the wall in her tears.
He sat on the floor playing board games with her,
And the legos strewn around built things from his mind.

Instead the stuffed dinosaur on his pillow cries in his absence,
Pillows on the floor couldn't make forts on their own.
The alarm clock didn't have reason to make a sound anymore.

In the water,
He sat across from her.
As her tears dried,
She just wanted her best friend back.

I'm always filled with rage toward people telling me to change.

Maybe it's because as much as I hate myself,

I wouldn't rather be anyone else.

I don't know why I haven't been
Struck with inspiration in weeks.
I have plenty I could write about
I don't have a lot of stress.

I've been happier,
Recently.

Maybe I can only write about heartbreak
And pain
And strife
And growth out of it.

But my growth is still happening.
If myself now had talked to my self of three months ago,
I would be surprised.

I'm confident,
Even though the thing I'd been dreading,
It came.

The things I thought would challenge me,
They did.

The things I thought I could conquer,
I couldn't.

The people I thought I could trust,
I couldn't.

But I moved on.
So did everyone else.

Everything that's happened in the last month,
The last year,
The last five years,
It all built something stronger.

Maybe it was magic
Maybe it was fate.
Maybe it was some twisted irony.
Maybe this was meant to happen from that first day.

People have told me
For every year since I could talk,
That when you find THE ONE,
You'll forget your own name.

But if I forget how to talk,
How can you help me sing?
If I forget how to breathe,
How can I laugh?

If my heart skips a beat,
Will you make sure it doesn't **** me?
If the butterflies get too out of hand,
Will you be there to get rid of them?

If my voice shakes,
Usually, I'm scared.
If I'm shyer around you than without,
You're probably not THE ONE for me.

I need my heart to stay steady,
And butterflies in my stomach make me nauseous.
Lucky for me,
I have someone who will sit with me until fear leaves.

Someone who will stand and watch changing fall colors,
Or debate about the more beautiful sunset,
Someone who listens and responds,
Even when I think I'm too quiet.

I have someone who I can tease,
Someone who teases me back.
I have someone who makes me laugh
Instead of taking my breath away.

I have someone who lifts me up,
And I'd trade that for THE ONE any day.

Since my freshman year of high school,
I've said the phrase,
"There are so many people in this room."
Way too many times.

This little phrase exposes my fears,
Of embarrassment,
Or physical closeness to other people,
Or some secret poison slipped through fingertips.

I have no idea why fear builds in my chest
During all the situations.
Why am I scared of my peers?
My family?

I'm not sure I am.
I'm not sure why it's there.
I'm not sure if it's an actual problem
Or if this tightening happens to everyone.

I can't get it checked because it's normal
And I'm not anxious enough to have anxiety,
Not broken enough to have depression,
Not scared enough of people to have social anxiety.

I'm not at other people's levels,
So I'm not above average.
This is average teenage stress.
It's average to not be able to breathe after a tough confrontation.

Or during one.
It's average to not stop shaking your hands.
It's average to have people tell you to stop moving consistently.
Everyone does that, right?

It's normal to feel fear of someone who isn't remotely scary,
To feel like I'm inside a squeezing bubble of air,
When I can't do something I should do with ease.
When I can't do something normal for me.

To feel this moving in my stomach when I talk about this,
To feel like I can't keep talking,
To feel annoying and weird and strange,
For every single thing in this writing.

It's normal to feel all of those things,
Right?

Homecoming
Wouldn't **** as much
If I was going with you.

Dress days wouldn't be as tiring,
If you did them too.
Lunch games wouldn't leave me frying
If I had you to talk to.

Float building would be better,
If you were in my grade.
The parade would be cooler
If I knew I wasn't going to fade

Into someone else's background
Where you can't see me.
I'm standing in your background.
Waiting for you to turn around.

But you might never.
You might never.

What will I do with forever
If it's spent with someone else?

I'll be fine.
But if you're gone,
From my life,
My thoughts will be in strife.

So because you aren't my homecoming date,
I'll sit back and relax
With you by my side.
And we can just wait.

I never meant to

It's hard.
Seeing you every day and forgetting.
I forget how to frown,
How to walk,
How to start a simple conversation.

All I have to say is hi.
Is that too much?
Should start with a witty pickup line instead?
No, that's way too much.

Should I comment on how I like your shoes?
Or how good you are at playing your instrument?
Or how good your hair looks in the wind?
Or how your jokes are funnier than you think?

Should I start a conversation with,
Something from the situation,
Or stick to the basics,
Plan it out in my head?

Should I say hi or hello
Be upbeat or mellow.
I'm happy to be talking to you,
But I don't want to be creepy.

Should I just smile in your direction
And pretend I'm not melting,
When you smile at me,
And turn back to what you're doing.

I just want to talk to you,
Why can't it be simple?
Why can't I start a conversation?

Maybe tomorrow,
I can start with hi.

I promise, we know,
We aren't perfect people, but we fight.
To make ourselves better,
Teenagers don't always think they're right.

We write sometimes, and it's deep.
Maybe about something ever so small.
It's not even a thought you'd want to keep.
But to us, it means it all.

We haven't had enough years of living.
You've many more turns round the sun.
But here you can find us still and we're giving,
Pieces of ourselves to everyone.

We're just like you,
We're brave and we're strong,
We fight for our lives
And we fight all along.

We fight for the people who were with us before,
And we fight for the people who one day will be no more,
And we fight for the people who were robbed of their future,
And we fight for the people who will be someone else tomorrow.

We stand for the people who've lived before us,
But also for the future of people just like us.

The world says we'll lead you,
Through storms of change,
But know that we're scared too,
The world ahead is strange.

But the thing we need you to understand most,
Is we're trying our best,
And so we hope,

You won't break us down,
You'll instead build us up.
We need your support
As much as you need our hope.

And for the generation that comes after,
I hope you can lead us too.
Because we aren't perfect,
But we were just like you.

It seems like every story I read
Has a character named just like you.
They've different personalities than people I've met,
But they all have the same name too.

I read about these character and they're great,
Don't get me wrong.
But they just remind me of your face
And the way that we get along.

I couldn't put you into a character if I tried.
I would swear up and down it'd be wrong.
There's too much character in you to  buy.
I'm not going to try so move along.

There's too much personality to fit in a few sentences.
I couldn't even fit you in a book.
There's no way to explain your endlessness.
I wouldn't even try, but look.

Writers make great characters all the time.
Some based loosely off the people around them.
I've added you into plenty of mine.
But there's no way I could fit you all into one of them.

I'm not good enough at writing to capture the way you light up,
When you play that stupid card game you love.
Or the way your eyes shine in the sun.
Or the social awkwardness wrapping you in a tight hug.

Or the way you talk about drawing and art,
The way you walk with your friends.
The way you love sports and how you've turned out,
Playing them since you were like ten.

There's too much of you to fit in this poem,
Or any book I could write.
You can tell me to try,
But try as I might.

I can't write you character flaws.

I've never known how to start a conversation,
Never once in my life.
I've never thought that conversation,
Is like a poem but harder to write.

You start with hello,
Or maybe a hi,
And you go somewhere because of someone in your life.

Poems are like stories that take much less time.
It seems a bit easier it doesn't have to rhyme.
My friends say they've tried it,
But to no avail.

I wonder what they'd do if I told them they could do it.
That writing is just like talking,
You can just write what you're thinking.

It doesn't have to rhyme or flow,
Sure that's nice but it might not be you.
Some poetry is out of order and couldn't rhyme if it had to.

Some poems,
Like this one,
Have different numbers of stanzas.

Different pieces of thought,
Pushed into something almost organized.
Poems don't need to be organized at all.

Some poems,
Like this one,
Aren't even a little bit organized.
They don't rhyme, or flow.

But they're pieces of you,
Thrown onto a page,
Ready for someone to read.
Or just ready for someone to ignore.