See, no one really wants to know the truth.
Parents like to pretend that their family is lovely, maybe even verging on sappy.
And that everything is oh so happy-clappy.
Nobody shows an interest in the overly-quiet child, they know not of her tortured youth.

Hugs and kisses, rare.
Broken bones and squashed wishes, that is how they show that they care.

Any doctor or paediatric psychiatrist will tell you, that a child at several junctions, while growing up, craves attention.
Was it beyond the comprehension?

Mommy and Daddy just get annoyed.
So, a sad little eight year old has to find something to fill the void.

One day that shiny metal catches her eye.
Drawn to it, almost as if she were a magpie.

Trust me people, something like this does not happen when one is simply bored.
Destructive behaviours such as these, usually strike when a person believes that something within themselves is fundamentally flawed.

The repetitive action of causing friction.
It soon becomes some form of a compulsion and/or an addiction.
Encounters with Mr Knife...
Become part of normal life.

One call.
And the house phone is angrily yanked from the foyer wall.

We all pile into the car.
Daddy's driving so fast it is, at times, hard to tell where we are.
Once we do stop; "Er...Daddy?" I ask. "Why are we at the ER?"

No reply. Mommy just grabs me roughly by the arm. Pulling me swiftly from my seat.
Not really giving me any time to properly stand steady upon my feet.

My little mind races.
It wasn't until later that I understood the concerned looks that graced their faces.

Why are they in such a big hurry?
With that thought I start to worry.

Daddy and Mommy quickly reach the reception.
Question after question. Command after command.
All responses, almost expertly vague. Are these nurses masters of deception?
The tension; I I'm barely able to withstand.
Then, some time later Daddy takes me gently by the hand.

Still struggling to keep up, I ponder aloud; "Daddy, what's the rush?"
"Baby girl please, not now. Just follow me and hush."

We reach a door.
Little did I know what lay beyond, what was in store.

We enter a room.
To the occupant in the bed, my eyes instantly zoom.

"Zoe!! Sis!"
"Hey Angel!" You greet, beckoning me to come further in.
I'm unsure, you break out into huge grin.
You attempt to sit up, from your lips escapes a dreadfully painful hiss.
"So l-little miss, do you think that you can give me a kiss?"
 
A peck.
In no less than 1 hour and 46 minutes each of my parents could be classed as an emotional wreck.

At 11:39 PM, Zoe; she was chosen.
Leaving me............................Frozen.

All thoughts, a blur.
A string of words, a nonsensical slur.

Nothing is straightforward or simple.
Because all I keep seeing are those deep blue orbs, oh and that gorgeous dimple.

I miss you more and more each day.
I miss how you would just lean against my door and then announce your presence with a soft: "Hey."

I miss waking up in your secure hold.
Sheltering me from the cold.

I miss the many ways in which you could make me giggle.
Especially that silly eyebrow wiggle.

I miss our late night convocations.
These usually included you smiling and laughing at my long-winded explanations.

I miss watching you think.
Being apart, it just makes my heart want to sink
I can't stop re-reading the first note that you wrote, my fingertip tracing the dried pen link.

It reads: Hi I'm Lindsay,
              I'm in 26B.
              If you ever need something or just want to talk, please   
              come and find me. ***

I hate this state of unwanted separation.
It makes me feel so helpless. My current and on-going mood; desperation.

She will astound.
She will amaze.
Her thought process is more often than not unique and profound.
We have been in near-constant contact for hundreds of days.

One email; complementing an author for writing a truly wonderful work of fiction.
Has become so much more. I certainly didn’t foresee. I doubt anyone could have, well not without assistance, perhaps a psychic prediction.

I find it immensely difficult to verbalize, even now.  
And I feel that I must...Just….Hmmm…How?

We have talked for hours on end, about any and all things.
Who knew?
But what I write is true.
An unbreakable bond we have. With the clicking of a Send button, that is how I say it begins.

Her voice at times, is the only thing that allows me to regain or maintain my focus.
No amount of medication, therapy or any other kumbaya related hokus pokus.

She is always reminding me that I have, and can find inner strength and powers.
Countless times, she has been the reason for me not to yield.
She has saved me in my darkest of hours.
She is my shield.

Silence scares me.
For many, it enables them to feel free.
Not me.
It makes me want to flee.

Noise is my cover, it enables me to hide from all around.
In its din, refuge, I have found.
I can listen to any noise, varying in volume. Sound.

It is my truest friend.
With sound I do not have to pretend.

If the melodies cease.
My anxiety is sure to increase.

The continuity of a sound wave.
This is when you can be sure that my mind will behave.
To any tune you could say that I am a slave.

If I do not have some form of music or backing track. 
Self esteem, confidence and control you'll find I will lack.
I may become uncharacteristically nervous; always looking back.

Music enables me to come out of my shell. 
Transporting from my internal, mental and emotional hell.

If my playlist is on, of my problems you will most likely be unaware.
I would appear outwardly, to be a normal person without a care.
If it is turned off, I would be virtually incoherent maybe even pulling out my hair.
And human contact, WHOA! NO! I simply could not bear.
As long as I'm sitting atop my sound cloud I am happy there.

Love knows no gender.
If Cupids' arrow does strike you will no choice but to surrender.

Love knows no race.
It pays no heed to the color of your face.

Love knows no bounds.
It can often engulf the people that it surrounds.

We have all, that some point opened our hearts.
We are all at risk of being hit by one the angel-winged baby's darts.
That is how some pairs will tell people that this is how a loving relationship starts.

Some believe they are sure to find.
Other, feel they have been regularly denied.

The feelings that love brings are intense.
For which many hold up little or no defence.

Love does not see imperfections.
It just strives to reach one goal; to seek a mate for one's soul.
Forming pure, honest, and unbreakable connections.

Love, at times can be hard for some to define or express.
True? Hundreds will say: "Yes."
Why not just simplify. With the definition below you could have a lot of success.

Love is??????????
..................Love!!! <3

Hi, I go by the name Lock&Ke;; #1139. I don't think I need to tell you that I like to read in my spare time.
As you will see I also like to rhyme.

To just simply say that I love to read.
Well that would be a very big understatement indeed.

Reading allows me to escape.
I always find It amazing that every authors' stories can be started by a single idea or prompt and then somehow a whole universe can begin to take shape.

I have never been all that good at describing or talking about myself.
To tell you the truth I'd far rather be immersed in cyberspaces' version of the traditional bookshelf.

My "friends" often refer to me as a "Computer Nerd"
I am most certainly not what I hear some people being called a "Social Sheep." If I ever have been, (highly improbable) I think I've now become detached from the "Herd."
And yes I know it's commonly known as a flock, I just wanted it to fit. Is that so absurd?

I have never belonged to any specific club, society or click.
I how can I when I'm a wanna-be Broadway or West End actress / world renowned pianist / punk band drummer chick.

Someone once called me a square peg in a round hole.
Or to use a different  analogy, socializing for me is like that first walk for newborn foal.

Meeting new people, I don't cope with well. 
From these examples you may be able to tell.

"God! You're such a freak!"
"Excuse me?! Did I give you permission to speak?!"
Y'know somethin'? You've just got one of those faces I wanna hit!"
"Hey Loser! Guess what, no-one gives a ****!"

So yeah, y'all now know why I love to read.
It makes me feel as if my soul has been freed.