My body somehow knows
The grief tomorrow holds.
I ache and throb
But I cannot sob;
The urge to cry
Stings my eyes.
My feet drag heavily
In the depths of this valley.
Every year without fail
I remind myself I am too frail.
"You're strong without the numbers,"
Yet I was too weak to pull you from your slumber.
Each March 22nd
Feels just like the 1st end,
When your heart stopped beating
And mine started bleeding.
I'd skip this whole day
But I'd miss the chance to say:
I miss you, lovely little hurricane.
It's all I can do to keep sane.
The smell of mint
Hurts just a hint.
The skinny jeans and hair bows
I could never disown.
I wear your effect  
On my forearm *****.
The pain of loss is akin
To etching you into my skin.
My hands shake with cold,
Though not as cold as a headstone.
Oh, how my body knows
The grief tomorrow holds.

it's been so tough for me,
every single day i asked myself,
"when will this end?"
"am i going to live like this forever?"

every single day
i've been holding it all,
by myself.

i don't know until when,
but when the time comes,
i hope they won't be sad.

most people see me as
a happy person because
i laugh easily,
i smile a lot,
i joke a lot.

but deep down
in my heart,
i am fragile,
i can get hurt easily,
but i choose to not
show it to the world.

instead of being sad,
i choose to laugh to cover it.
maybe you can call me
"the queen of the mask"

by this,
you can tell
that most of the time
when I'm laughing,
I'm not really laughing,
i was trying so hard to hide
my sadness.

I don't recognize
That person anymore
Not the laugh
The face
The dress
Or the way they look
And talk
And walk
I don't recognize the smile
On their face

The eyes
Once so bright
And full of hope
Now look so empty
And lost

But no one can see that
They only see what
They want to see
Not the truth
They only care about
What you can see
In the mirror

The tears won't stop
I can hardly see
I don't understand
Where I am
Or what I'm doing there
It takes a few minutes
To realise
That my best friend
Didn't just die
Bc I have no friends
It takes a little while
To realise
That I'm in
My bedroom
And not in
The streets
Of Chicago
I miss my friend
And I miss
That family
But they're
Not real
For it was only
A book
And not reality

Real eyes
Realise
Real lies.

I wanted to bury my feelings for you, deep within the ground so it was out of sight.

Never knew it was a seed, sprouting and blooming. It was beautiful you see  just one of a kind.

But I get it, you won't choose it.

Who would pick a daisy in a garden of roses.

And then you picked the one with the most thorns, now it's painted red just hiding in the colors.

But it's actually grey because you left.