You were my best friend. I always thought our friendship would never end. But it did. All because you're acting a kid. I was one of the people you cared about most.  And now im not, because I guess I was making you sick. I wasn't even aware of it. Why did you not tell me this? I think it's disgusting that this made you end our friendship. The one we'd had since we were six. I thought you were better than this. How could you be this childish. We were hanging out less than a month ago. Then you randomly stomped upon my toes. And you know what else I think is disgusting too? That this also happened because you didn't like me talking about the one I love in front of you. That fact makes me want to puke. You were someone I thought I knew. You're a stranger. And you know its true.

I'm better than you. Nothing will ever stop me from believing that is true. I’ll disregard your feelings and touch you wherever you want me to. I'm a *******, and that makes me someone you want to do. I'm right aren't I? Of course I am. Don't try to lie. You want me way more than all those really nice guys. The ones who listen and are ready to comfort you if you might cry. You know you'll tell them “bye bye”. Leaving them staring into the sky, wondering what they didn't do right. They gave everything for you. They can't help but adore you. They hate seeing you hurt. But when they do, they hold you as your tears soak their shirt. They love you for how wise you are. Not what cup size you are. They're exactly what you need, but don't mind them. Just focus on me. They'll treat you like you're their everything. I'll treat you like my property. You're still going to choose me, obviously

I saw a flower
wilting beautifully
in a bed of
uncertainty
and I wondered if it
was afraid to face the sun
because it perhaps forgot
sunscreen
and in its attempts
at self preservation
it starved itself of what
it needed
--the sunshine.

I want to write a poem
about you,
But I can't.
You will never accept me,
You will never love me,
You will never want me.
If I could, I would.
But I can't.

I wonder if you could read

The things I write now,

Would they somehow make you proud?

Or would you just remember

The words of a fifteen year old girl

That didn't even write them,

Just formed to fit her current mood

And have they?

Are your dreams beautiful?

More than you could have ever hoped for?

I hope they are.

struggles occur,
often I'll juggle many
in attempt to avoid them
and pretend I'm empty;
nothing can hurt me!
but eventually I mess up
and break the tossing.
One struggle breaks
right after the other,
and in the end
I usually feel much better.

https://soundcloud.com/ryancatullusholden/ryan-holdencatullus-preview-in-order-to-survive