2016
You're hurt.
You might not have registered it, but he hurt you.
Many more people will hurt you in the same way.
They will make you feel worthless and replaceable, but you will find friends who stay.

2017
For the first time
You’re mourning for someone you never got to know.
Your mother is hurting—
You feel everything but you won’t understand until till you’re older.

2018
You love him,
But not in the way you think you do.
It won’t stop you from writing letters and holding his hand.
You'll spend many nights humiliated by your actions
And the next six years running away.

2019
You’ll understand sacrifice before you understand suicide,
And realise that everyone becomes orphans
And feel guilt for not paying rent to your parents.
You are not a burden.

2020
You feel trapped and scared
Feeling your fear rise along with the numbers.
But the storm will pass and it will be nothing but a common flu.

2022
For the first 6 months you’ll say your goodbyes
Then you’ll start public school in the middle of the year
You’ll learn profanities you had previously been sheltered from
Papers will pile on your shoulders and you will scream and sob as your soul is shredded over and over again.
You will learn of self harm. You will learn of insomnia.

2023
You will finally be able to name classmates
And race against the boys in PE. You will become class monitor.
You will have demons who shriek lies but also friends who will cover your ears to protect you.
You will wake up everyday with the knowledge that the death of your class is coming.
You telling stories, and stopped writing them too
You will finally talk to him about your mistakes 6 years ago, and leave the scout group in his hands

2024
You will watch as the group chat falls apart.
With you tearing yourself to try and keep the rotting bonds together.
You will tear your throat open screaming, because no one understand why at it's like to feel everything through the screen.
You will try to replace them with your new class, only to be let down again and again.
You will start to write all the hurt in rhymes, spilling your blood over the paper.
You will finally understand suicide, and why people want to die
You will also realise that a friend tried to jump two years ago, and you knew nothing about it.
You will find a find a friend willing to be the harmony to your melody, even if both of you tend to miscommunicate

2025
You've will meet will want to leave school, but also want to stay
You've will meet wonderful people on this website
Listen to their stories; cry for them, fear for them, pray for them
Want to know them better but still be too scared to do so
You will be insecure and distance yourself from friends.
You'll be scared to hurt them.
You’ll hold back because you feel like you’re too much. Don’t go silent.
But the year isn't over yet, so you've got time

I heard her today, you know—
A ghost of my past

And for a moment I forgot.
I forgot what life was like without her voice;

Clear, high, wavering yet confident,
Beauty slowly reclaiming attention from the inky flaws.

She wore a smile that wasn’t made of porcelain
But still fake, cause it wasn’t really real

For she had long faded, like cotton candy slowly melting in humid air,
Along with the wisps of my childhood.

But for the first time since the fall
The little boy began to dream of skies again

I love you

Your guiding hands are always there
To catch me when I fall.
Soft combs through my tangled hair
Hugs, a protective wall.

Your strength's a roaring lioness,
Your heart burning so bright,
Fighting through the crushing stress.
You burn away the night

Is it the words that flow and rhyme
And dance in rhythm, keeping time?

Or is it a line
That breaks when it wants to,
Not when it’s told;
A thought
Spilling without apology?

Or 5-7-5
Secrets whispered by the wind
Words, though few, sing true?

Perhaps it is found behind coughed petals,
Fourteen lines aligning to pave a stage
Where lovers for love charge into battle
And hearts are found pierced or tangled in rage

Or ten words, though short, a poem for the world

Or the sun spilling gold across the sky
Painting clouds as the sea drowns its light.

To me, poetry is emotion;
Memory,
Ink spilled where the heart leaked
And it is not meant for everyone