Humans forget that
Nature is their home too
When they chop it down

To the girls who are secretly so broken
You WILL be alright
I know you have scars on your soul
Maybe your heart
Possibly your wrists
None of this is your fault
And even if you think it is
Let it go
Not that you can, that easily
But try
I know you are broken
I know you're not okay
Especially when people ask how you are and you answer "I'm fine"
When what you really mean is "I'm alive"
But what do you really care about your own survival anymore
Well I just want you to know
There is beauty in broken glass
And to me
There is immeasurable beauty
In broken girls
So don't you ever forget
You cannot be defined by pain
You're too beautiful for that
Stay strong, broken girl
Nothing is ever really broken

I am so sorry
I should have seen it
I should have called more
But I let you slip away
I was too wrapped up in my own problems
And you two seemed so happy
I just kind of stopped calling
Usually I called when I was sad
Hearing you
Made me feel better
But the emptiness came right back when the line went dead
I should have pressed harder
Secrets can be necessary
But they can also tear you apart
Like knives hitting the target of our friendship
Please stop throwing your knives
And I will stop mine
And we can patch up the holes
We left behind

You'd love to learn my secret
And I would tell you what it is
But to make and admission I would regret
Would require me to emit it exists

It's not that I don't want to tell you
I'm desperate to drop the facade
But it has less gravity than the potential ridicule
So please continue to think me odd

I'm worried about the rationalizations
That I'll be told I'm confused and it's just a phase
And since I've not confirmed these realizations
Hidden I have stayed

Truth or Dare is a ***** to play
When you can't tell friends from foes
It's even worse, having to guard what you say
Concealing the agro

I sit here
Crushed by loneliness
Wishing for conversation
Something
Because I seem to be
The only person
Who doesn't have something
To do on this
Cold Sunday afternoon
It is paradoxical
'Cause when I have
A person to talk to
I often wish for them to stop
I am not content either way
I want to walk away
From everything
But I have responsibilities
And it is too cold
So I will just sit here
and be lonely