Well I tried my best
My heart has been ripped out my chest
Nothing left but to cry
I'm sorry dear friend but I want to die
I've made my bed in which I lie
I don't understand, I don't know why
Maybe because you left me high and dry,
Maybe because you said goodbye
I won't[die]; it's fine, I'm just wandering in space
My mind and heart are in fast pace
How the hell is this 'okay'?
I wish the world would stop the noise
in my head; I just want to hear his voice
Oh how silly I'm being for a boy
that still brings me joy

Say you love me, I'm yours
Your smile and laugh are my cures
Didn't realize you'd be this immature
Go ahead, you have the floor
Tell me what you're looking for
"I'll never leave", you swore
Well there you went out the door

So tired of begging
And pleading
For your precious time

Just a simple conversation
Would ease
My worried mind

But here I sit
Alone
Once more

And even though
You are near
Our souls could not
Be farther apart

Words seem insincere

I know it may be difficult
Or impossible
To understand

But if you felt
The pain in my heart
You would know
Without a doubt

Control is not
What I seek

I only need your hand.

- Brandi R Lowry

(This isn't a poem so don't even bother)
Because here's the deal
I hate it when I want to write about things that scare me, my fears, my past
And I have to be worried that people on here will read it and wonder if I'm okay? Wonder if I need help, feel pity towards me? I don't know if they would
Because I promise you all I am somehow 10x stronger because of the **** that's gone down
And maybe it's not that much ****, but it's a lot to me
A lot to recreate how I think, move, feel, sense
I just want to be able to talk about this and not get those stares like "oh my god this girl must be messed up because of that. She must be depressed or something"
I know what depressed is
I know what cutting is
I know anxiety is
But that's not me
That's a girl who got lost
Very lost.
She isn't and never will be me. Ever.

I hate how I think I'm better off
And I end up ******* myself
I hate how almost every memory of sophomore year is painful.
Some are beautiful pains
And some are dark dark pains.
I hate how I have to filter myself on this site
I hate how I'll write something and end up deleting the whole thing because what's the point of posting something on private of I'm the only one who will read it.
I hate how I can love people so much,
So so much
But I end up hardening up about it
Speechless and slightly ******
I hate how no one will actually read this, or if they do they won't read it slowly
I hate how I'm using hate because I don't think I truly hate anything except sin and evil.
I want sunshine and stupid cliche picnics and board games and skating and everything I say I'll do but never end up doing
And I can't say I love you to anyone enough to express god I love you
And I'm sorry you haven't heard it
And I promise I'll work on it

These 11 months are the best I've ever had
Despite the circumstances you were still there when I was sad
It always seems like you're the only one who can make me glad
Make me see the light when I am mad

While this poem is hella corny
I write it knowing how much you adore me
Everyday your beauty floors me
I can't wait to tell our kids our story

So here is to us my dear
You're like my glasses without you I can't see clear
It was the future I used to fear
But now that I have you I wish for it to be near

So happy 11 months my girl
Now for the rest of our lives on this world

I look up and I see this girl standing on the 50 yard line and a year ago I barely knew her and now I know her entire body and what she likes and dislikes and that she loves me and that I love her and there is this invisible force from her to me that holds us together and makes us one, and that without the other we cant imagine a world like that.

I look up and I see this girl standing on the 50 yard line who in a few years I will see walking down an aisle, flowers in her hand, veil on her head, and a white dress with tears in her eyes because we had finally made it and everything we ever wanted was finally coming true.

I look up and I see this girl standing on the 50 yard line who in a few years I will be sharing a house with and be raising kids with that look just like her and coming home and seeing her napping on our bed and I can't help but lay down next to her and hold her in my arms thinking back to when I thought I'd never be able to do that.

I look up and I see this girl standing on the 50 yard line and thats all I need to see to know that everything will be okay.

When she was my Sun,
you were my Northern Star.
You stayed in the background,
but you were there --
Listening, advising, but never pushing.
You saw, didn't you?
You saw that I, Moon, would come crashing down.
You watched as she scorched and burned.  
You, my Star, waited until the Moon came to you.

For once, be your own crutch.