5 years ago. She loved me speechless.
Her lips upon mine.
Clothes off. Passion to Passion.
Warmth to warmth.
Every smile and caress, genuine.
She whispered in my ear," You look better shirtless."
By dawn of morning I rested against her bare chest listening to her wild heartbeats.
As we got our clothes back on a couldn't help but stare at her. Then I went to back to bed. She kissed my forehead goodbye.
As I woke up in the morning overwhelmed by new strength and emotions.
I knew I would see her at college. My ears were ringing of her heartbeat on repeat. So I drank coffee and listened to music. The coffee taste better. My music sounded sharper and crisper as if every note had a new meaning.

Some say that Letting Go is easy. I am not referencing the song from Frozen. I mentioning the act of Letting Go of Pain and Suffering.
Letting Go of something that you think is suppose to be bounded to you. But your heart pleads no to holding onto the pain and the hurt.
The gut is out interrogating all the memories to see where the beginning. While the mind looks for what is left of the good moments. Letting Go of those guilty feelings and the regret feelings because those feelings shouldn't be there. When you love someone despite all of the gaslighting and abuse those feelings are inevitable.
But when you know you should Let Go of the pain because they no longer bring joy. Maybe it's the fear of losing the hint of anger.
Maybe it's the reminder that they don't control you anymore yet those feelings being present mean Letting Go since there is no memory to justify a victim taking the blame. Even if that victim is you build the courage and let go to find peace within. It isn't easy but the hardest things require the most bravery.

Most days my ex-boyfriend is like a Revolving Door.
He makes my mind spin in circles until I feel like throwing up.
He is the most straight guy I have ever met. I mean that in the worst way possible. I have nothing against straight men. My ex-boyfriend talks about *** as if any girl can stand him for his sexist behavior.
Girls turn him down left and right. I think that is his punishment for his behavior. He thinks of me as his last resort when girls turn him down. I find it to be degrading to have him think that no one can ever love me which is not true. I may be insane but I am worth loving.

Coffee with so many flavors and don't know which to focus on.
My cat Jasmine loving me as always.
Waking up headache gone.
Now I have to find a present for my father.

I fix every broken thing in my life: my closest friends, my family dynamics, my acquaintances perspectives and my church friends terms of validation.
I like broken things. They are beautiful in the mundane. They are bizarre and I enjoy what I can. I create social solutions in the matter of minutes. I am broken minded and broken hearted I guess that makes me the most broken of all of my things.
With a early deteriorating mind and manic depressive insanity anything that has a good soul to it is beautiful to me. I observe potential in people and sometimes I help them flourish as humans.
It's what I do. I do what I can but I never invalidate them.
I have seen the worst in humans and the best in people it's lonely sometimes. I get used to it. To be insane is to embrace what you can.
I like broken things. That's my thing and I live without regret for caring.

I never thought people cared what I thought of and the words I speak.
I never thought people wanted to listen to my advice and my nerdy pop culture and book references.
I never thought being a creative writer and a poet would turn people's heads my direction.
I never thought knowing psychology, sociology and science facts based off of past random passions would have people wondering my hobbies.
I never thought I was worth genuine smiles and laughter from my closest friends.
Turns out I am worth it all. I am worth loving and caring even though I am a lot to handle. I am worth the warm hugs and real conversations. I am worth the confused looks and smug grins I get from normal people. I outsmart anyone that I don't trust because I am always three steps ahead. I can read the expressions, emotional signals and over inflated egos easily. I tear down walls with a single glance and meltdown glass doors of the soul with a thoughtful comment.

I am Thinking About how I don't have to rush into close friendships or romance. I am Thinking About how I have choices now.
I am Thinking About how I am good at being alone because I don't feel lonely anymore since I know who I am.
I am Thinking About how reading comforts me and writing brings out my emotions. I am Thinking About how many times I get tempted to contact him I remember the ways he damaged me and I stop myself. I am Thinking About how grateful my realizations saved me in the end. I am Thinking About how concerned my mom got when I told her the truth and how she defended my actions.
I am Thinking About how proud my psychiatrist was of me.
I am Thinking About how much I need a therapist because in all honesty after what I have been through talking to someone always helps.

Taking meds and drinking coffee.
Going to downtown so I get bored in my house.
Still in my pajamas and going to get dressed for today's adventures. Even though it's my Tuesday routine.

I am the odd ball of my family. All of my family are social butterflies then there is me. The bisexual writer. There I said it. The thing about me from elementary school to middle school I wanted to fit in but still be me. That didn't happen, it's either or. I chose forging my own path than becoming what everyone else was. My siblings were popular. I was just the weird, quiet kid who want to write anything important to me. The guys I dated were science nerds. Go figure. They didn't have a sense of humor and were emotionally abusive. That's one of my secrets. I won't reveal all of them because I am not stupid.
If being outspoken makes me crazy, ***** it.
I have all of my high school friends on my phone.

I shoot for the stars aiming to part of sky. To shine for even a little while is worth it. I run towards my dreams. Seeing my reality sprawled across the pages like a pet cat looking for love.
The rebel with a silver tongue. The wild yet mild mannered reporter with a tender heart gazing into the dangerous, loud world hoping to become something. Reading books to have a world to be free from society's grasp on my identity as a female writer.

I have things still to say to him. I have so many feelings unraveling.
I want to yell at him for manipulating me. I want to tell him how wrong it was for him to place his life in my hands as if I didn't have enough stress weighing on my shoulders. I want to tell him that he took my happiness away for 4 years. 4 years is too long to be unhappy and depressed. I am angry because I still have things to say.
I am angry that he made feel worthless. I am angry that he made me feel trapped for so long as if I had no choice in my life. I am angry that he thought that we were similar in any way, shape or form.

You are a sexist *****, a *** obsessed lonely, insecure, fragile egotistical, ignorant, neglectful and friendless boy.
You may be one year older than me but you don't act like it. I am the mature, responsible angel while you are the reckless, self absorbed demon. You may say that I am complicated but I am the only friend you have left to care about you. You have mommy and daddy issues because you think that they don't love you when they are trying to save you from yourself. You try and woo me with half assed marriage proposals. You think that I am a guilty pleasure for you when really I will never sleep with you let alone date you. I am not your therapist anymore and you are a lost cause because there is nothing left to fix you. We lasted a week. A week. You can't ask someone to have kids with you and marry you on day 3. I am not stupid so don't act like I am. I have outsmarted you on wits and defeated you at relentlessness. Your suicide notes broke my heart every time yet you begged to control me. You are a man so stop thinking that you are entitled to my mind palace. There is no room for your drama. There is no room for your mental and emotional abuse. I am broken enough as it is. I can't marry a hopeless narcissist. Your tricks don't work on me. So stop giving a show because I have seen enough.

Some people act like robots slipping in and out of reality.
Some people live on highs Artificial or Natural. Medicating their pains and sorrows with smoking and drinking.
Trading highs and lows for mentally crashing in pits of despair to drowning dark thoughts in pain meds. How idiotic and how human are we to live with lives like these?
Rich people finding thrills in scandals.
Poor people seeking attention to dull the emptiness of their home lives.
How fearless and bold do you have to be to pour out your heart to a total stranger? Is it desperation or is it wanting comfort?
No one knows.
The mysteries of life and the unknown beckons those who seek vengeful abandon.

I refuse to be a bully, a person who uses people for personal gain, a person who twists stories for glory and a person who thinks of only themselves.
I don't want to be any of that because I have met people like that and they are lonely.
Bullies are wounded people who hurt other people for fun since they won't talk to a therapist.
A person who uses people for personal gain are evil because they will throw you out of their life the moment they feel you aren't worthy of them.
A person who twists stories for glory is someone asking for the devil to whack them with a broom.
A person who thinks of only themselves won't get very far in life since those who do that can look in the mirror they aren't all that great.

My mom was overbearing as usual. I wanted to escape so I found my fictional paradise in my mind palace. I lost my mind. I couldn't rest or slept too much. I heard so many voices and I spoke back. I left hints for myself in riddles, some riddles were easy others were hard but I understood where I was going. Trying to find the doorway out. Three months I was trapped in my mind palace.
My house felt like an institution. My mom kept stressing me out. On my worst days I stayed in the house. On my best days I could outside my house. The medications helped. The doctors were nice. I still talk to my psychiatrist and my therapist. When ever my mom stresses me I walk around town. She goes with me to my sessions it's annoying. My dad normally is loving about that summer and calls me Crazy Brandi. It's endearing. He thought I was sleepwalking when I interrupted his sleep when I really couldn't sleep at all. I guess being overstimulated by bipolar disorder and anxiety is why my sleep schedule changed so much so often that summer.

This You Do not know I have the weight of the world bearing on my shoulders.
This You Do not know there is a pain bursting from my heart.
This You Do not know every breath is heavy as I am dying as I am living.
I am not a bitter person. I am not going to let you depress me.
I am not going to let you turn me into a monster like you.
You are a human leech ******* my light and energy. I will never date you.
This You Do not know I was never happy with you in the first place.
I regret meeting you. I regret being your friend.
Soon I will say good bye to you and eventually I will heal far away from you.

My heartstrings aren't for anyone to play with.
My mood swings aren't toys for those dare try and control them.
My depression isn't a merry go round.
My anxiety isn't defined by trouble breathing and shaky hands.
I didn't ask for judgements, erasure, being abandoned nor scaring bullies away.
I did ask God for people I can count on, a lover that can be cherished by me and a way out of this religious town. I have people I can count on but I still don't have a lover and a way out of this town.
I may be talented but I still wish for a love worth pursuing.
I am still human.

People say, "To forget is a curse" Or something like that. I don't know.
I get bored listening to normal people talk. It's like watching tennis when observing normal people talk to each other. It's all black and white. So boring. Give me the gray areas of conversations and then I will be interested. I love having strange conversations! It's unpredictable, it's fun and you never run out of conversation starters.
Why do people talk in black and white? I don't know.
Why do people care about other people's *** lives? I don't know. Why do people care about salaries? I don't know.
I never understood small talk probably because I have big dreams.

Last night I had a panic attack. The Mystery Girl saw me have a panic attack. She said, "Everything is okay. I am not going to hurt you." My heart slowed down a little at the sound of her voice.
She said, "Don't worry I will ask you out another time." So I still have a chance to be with her. I still have hope.
I am still sore from that panic attack. I was visibly shaking and my hands were trembling. I couldn't breathe. It was as if my lungs forgot how to circulate air in them and my heart couldn't stop pounding against my chest.

I knew when I was younger that I wasn't straight because I had crushes on both boys and girls. I repeatedly fell for my best friends, they were different people.
I knew when I was younger that my brain overstimulated itself a lot making me crazy and openly expressing myself in the only way I knew how by writing every feeling in a journal. The journals added up over the years that labeled me a writer and a poet. Those are the labels I accept about myself.
I knew when I was younger that I could process a lot of things faster than the rest of the kids my age labeling me "mature for my age". I have always been told that I am a good writer and it took awhile to accept the praises I would get for my poetry. Every time someone would give me a compliment me, my mind would go blank and my little sister would thank them for me.
I knew when I was younger that I didn't care what people thought of me. My mom didn't like that so she always told me how to dress right, how to speak right, how to act right and how to be polite. I was raised in a church where being different was frowned upon. I pretended that I didn't feel lonely. I pretended that didn't feel oppressed for being me. I didn't care about talking to other church members because I don't trust anyone that I don't know.

Some stages never come down and the people stuck in their own shows. All of the acting and pretending to be something they are not.
Ask them revealing questions and they give you a real, deep answer then they stopped acting for you.
Surprise them by stop acting like a demigod or a demon. Masks may be good props but horrible excuses to explain to someone. Use real resources not fake, plastic curtains. Society may like fakers and pretend people but real people don't like any of that.
Living a peaceful life is fun, relaxing and honest.
What does drama give you? A lot of ******* and consequences to deal with.

To Be a victim of emotional and mental abuse it's as if there is nothing to stop the incoming demands of caring about someone you shouldn't.
To Be insane is to question your actions on the concept of good and evil.
To Be a nerd is to bullied until you breakdown in front of everyone in tears.
To Be brave is to do reckless things to test fear itself.
To Be alone is to be surrounded by people and wanting to leave the social event.
To Be a writer is think about every impossible situation and ask your friends if you are right.
To Be a singer is to be impress people you barely know and act as though it's natural for your voice to slip an octave lower than intended.
To Be fierce is to say what you want in hopes that those are the right words.
To Be an intellectual is to know that there is always more to learn.

To think procreating as the goal of dating seems shallow.
Why not seek love and trust for a marriage instead of ****** pleasure? ****** pleasure isn't everything.
To lust is gain infatuation from physical attraction. To love is to be selfless beyond reason. To trust is to be vulnerable.

One Red Flag to look for is someone who draws you into a friendship with a hidden agenda that you don't figure out until it's too late.
It's slowly drowning in their mindset. It's telling them secrets at midnight. It's them taking away your uniqueness. It's holding your tongue when you want to question everything.
Two Red Flags to look for is someone who makes you feel seen but not listened to. It's explain yourself repeatedly. It's gazing into their eyes and thinking that they care about you when your chest warms up. It's having the thrills of good feelings and thinking they are a good friend when it's not equal efforts. It's begging for attention when you shouldn't.
Three Red Flags to look for is someone makes you play mind games.
It's showing them how devoted you are to the friendship and them dismissing it as a thoughtful gift. It's coming out to them and them rejecting you. It's them not understanding any of your thoughts and having your heart sink.
Four Red Flags to look for is someone who put up walls between you and them until there is nothing left to hold the friendship together.

I gave up on hate a long time ago. I have no grudges of hate left to care for. They were too heavy to hold so I forgave my enemies.
I learned to drop the baggage behind the past.
I placed a cape on my shoulders and learned how to fly.
When I gave up on my grudges of hate I was free of all that heaviness.
I tore off the blinders society gave me and learned to run wildly.
On the surface I am mild mannered, sweet girl with a silver tongue but beneath I am a crazy genius three steps ahead of the crowd with wits as strong as steel. I never needed validation, I just needed people I can call home. In a way my hometown isn't really home, it's the people I became best friends with that made it home.
I am vengeful because my past gave me motivation to be a good person, not because I ever want revenge on anyone.

It's my birthday today all want to do is see how my girl is.
It's my birthday and she gave me a love confession after all these years.
It's my birthday and I want to hug her even though she is my ex-girlfriend.
It's my birthday and she touched my heart again. I am not angry well I am insane. She brought out the best in me.
It's my birthday and want to spend the day in the mental hospital to see her.

I may not be an teacher like my older sister. I may not be a pastor like my older brother. But I can write.
This Is Where I Lead, I may not be my older siblings but I have lead Writer's Club as vice president in high school and I have lead Writer's Guild as vice president in college. My older siblings had to be taught how to lead. I could lead crowds even if it was small crowds ever since I was a kid, I had leading down to a science by high school due to my natural instincts.
This Is Where I Lead, I hardly ever lied growing up but when I did my mom would notice. My siblings had no idea how much strength it took going up against mother mentally and emotionally growing up because none of them ever did it. My mom always thought something was wrong with me even I was being a good person front and center for her.
This Is Where I Lead, I have always been opinionated and outspoken because I hung out with geniuses so of course I would play catch up in the matter of minutes at lunchtime and have my voice be heard. We would have a different topic every day so I felt like a reporter in a good way. The nerd table would be filled with music nerds, writing nerds and a couple of science nerds. Being a nerd requires being strong willed, being looked down upon by the popular people, tough skin, and having to deal with bullies.

Ever changing life and waiting for the one.
Counting down the days 'til Thanksgiving.
To see my brother and his wife.
To get together with my family.

Your blonde hair dyed brunette with painted black fingernails.
Your lost blue eyes and bad boy reputation.
You built yourself a drinking problem from partying in high school.
You have never a found a lover after a girl broke your heart in high school.
You normal, popular white boy in a religious high class town.
You always seemed lost in the crowds from small town traditions to school dances. You didn't fit in this town either. I know you don't know what you want to do with your life just figure it out so you can escape this town and your lost glory days.
I just feel sorry for you.

Growing up in my church I had to learn politics from the older kids.
Growing up in my church I hid my anxiousness and depression.
Growing up in my church no one got literature references because their parents forbade fantasy books from their kids at home.
Growing up in my church when I talked about the social commentary of my favorite tv shows no one understood me.
Growing up in my church when I studied Greek and Roman myths no one knew what culture I was talking about.
Growing up in my church only the older kids thought I was cool.
Growing up in my church no one told me about queer theory or gay culture I had to learn that for myself.
Growing up in my church no matter how smart I was, got praise from church moms for reading big fiction books yet I always felt lonely because my church friends only cared about my spirituality.
Growing up in my church being aggressively ignorant to why different people live their lives away from Christianity made me wish I could educate them on compassion and living a non-judgemental life.

It's no surprise to ache everywhere because the white cells are protecting my healing wound.
I feel fragile and vulnerable physically.
It's as if every part of me is waiting to be protected again. Yet healing requires focus and energy maybe that is why.
I don't know.

Psychological traumas, mental illnesses and emotional scars make a Mosaic of the mind.
Sometimes it's beautiful. Sometimes it's dark. Sometimes it's messy colors appearing on CT scan alerting the doctors that something beyond physical is happening.
It takes doctors of the mind for the unexplainable to be figured out.
It takes a lot of tests for them to find out.
Some Mosaics require special eyes to be appreciated.

I may be white but I am still a bi woman. I am not less than human because I have bipolar disorder, depression, anxiety and a high functioning sociopath. In fact, I am more human than most because the beast inside me doesn't control me anymore. When I embrace my wild side I am more me than ever. Primal instincts aren't bad emotions, that's bottled up rage and aggression which society doesn't accept as societal norms. Rage isn't throwing things and breaking people's prized possessions, that's abuse. Rage is shaking in anger, yelling at people for doing stuff wrong, confronting someone over the smallest things and having guilt for being angry at all. Aggression isn't beating someone into submission, telling someone they are worthless repeatedly, begging someone to do something stupid and pleading for attention, that's emotional abuse. Aggression is channeling your frustrations into heated sentences for someone who don't deserve it, losing it over a parent that won't go to band concerts, wanting to scream over someone who won't validate your existence and causing a situation from nothing. Privilege is nothing more than existing with an easy life.

I have never felt normal. I have never been normal.
I am tired of being looked down upon for being insane and for choosing my writing career over something practical.
You try living my life. My mom broke my mind and losing my best friend broke my heart. I am permanently broken, no one can fix me. You can't pray away my troubles. Trust me I have tried many times. You can't pray way my bisexuality. Trust me I have tried that too.
I can't keep up with fashion trends nor popular slang. I can't fit into a society box because I keep breaking the mold people put me in.
In a way it's a blessing but it's also my curse. I have emotional scars in my mind where my normalcy should be. So please never call me normal. It's an insult to my intelligence.

I can see you for what you are: human, demon, angel, monster and innocent bystander. Demons always hiding their agendas in the depths of their personalities. Angels, always fighting for the good of others with scars of all sorts determining their trust of humanity.
Monsters always tearing apart anyone who gets in their way in the most inhuman ways possible. Humans always in same way of chaos find themselves caught in between battles. Innocent bystanders those who don't know what war they walked in on.
Get Rid of the Pride, what are you? I will find out sooner or later. Just be honest.

Drama always runs high in crowds. I don't whether it's the leaders that make it tense or the followers. Popularity always seemed fickle and lonely, I mean to do crazy and stupid stuff that has no meaning whatsoever for popularity just seemed like the gold rush, nothing is there. So why look?
To try so hard to get a feeling that you know will go away. Why try?
Why not be what you want, if you want it so badly?
If you need a friend, be a friend to yourself.
If you need a lover, be someone you can love.
There isn't one way to be something like high school taught you to be.
I mean, how does anyone expects to respect you if you won't do the same?

Would if the world is only cruel because good people are hard to find. Would if the passage of time is only traumatic because scars are supposed to be a good thing.
Would if the luck of someone depends on their deeds. Would if the evil in the world is annoyed by what is left of the good.
Because "nice guy or girl" isn't always good. "Nice" isn't even a measuring point for humanity. "Nice" is what you say when someone do something fierce. Would if the good of humanity is in rarity because the bad can be so tempting.
The World itself is Sometimes Tilted. Society is flawed and the systems in place mostly benefit men. The patriarchy is a demonic system. When will the next revolution start?

Society is full of stereotypes and bigotry.
Bureaucracy defines how incapable people are to take care of themselves.
The Government determines how disabled someone is from to physical to mental health.
Not all institutions care for the people no matter how ill they are.
Not all heroes care for the disabled. Tear away the mask and what is left of humanity to care for incurable misfits who just want to live?
Mental illnesses aren't curable just full of treatments like medicines, therapies and doctors.
Psychotic breaks aren't curable just appeared to be crazy illusions of a mad person. Which they aren't always wrong just smarter than the average human sometimes.

When I Dance at weddings I am free.
When I Dance in the shower I am myself.
Either way I am still good at dancing.
When I Dance at school dances, homecoming and prom was the most fun way back when.

Being raised in a church since I was 7 years old and living in a religious small town no one ever told me about bisexuality, gays and lesbians. I knew they existed and I knew my mom was disgusted by them.
I became close friends with bisexual girls and a gay guy in college that's where I learned who I was then I did research on it. I learned the Bible passages that were against homosexuality were out of context and being gay actually isn't illegal.
Though my mom is still against anyone that isn't straight and my Christian friends still don't know that I am bisexual because I am not ready to be public about my sexuality yet.
My church is still Ignorant of people who are different from them.
There is nothing demonic about the lgbtq community. They are just weird, kind and compassionate people who accept that they can't change their sexuality.
My church's Ignorance of the Unknown is why I don't agree with their patronizing ways.

Queer is the old time slang for weird and gay is the old time slang for happy. There is nothing wrong with being weird and happy.
The best people I know are queer and gay.
Gay is still used an insult that straight people use to describe events that they didn't like. Queer is what straight people use as their slang to out a weird, flamboyant person. Straight people are strange they think everything is a competition, everything is a way to insult their spouse by gossip and not communicating to each other their insecurities. I know gay and queer people who will compliment, praise and lift up their spouse and close friends as though it's their first instinct. I love being part of a community that will embrace how flamboyant and bizarre they are. I know I analyzed both sides of the spectrum. I do that when I am bored.

You want space, time and silence from me. I can accept that.
I am a burden to you and I am too much for you.
For someone who calls me bestie and weirdly different I am hardly shocked you didn't tell me yourself.
You told my boss and let him run me through the wringer.
You aren't me. I trust you. Sure I care too much and I love too much.
You are new to my life. I expected some sort of communication from you. If you wanted time, space and silence from me you have it now.
I respect you. So here is my radio silence.

My work best friend is someone I felt like I have known her my whole life even though we became friends several months ago.
I always felt like I had prove my existence as something special to the Girl with Green Eyes even though we have been friends for 9 years.
Time is something strange because one person can make everything seem business like while the other can make everything seem like the joining of a family.
My ex boyfriend always compared me to his ex girlfriend which I knew wasn't fair to my personality.
One day when I find myself a girlfriend I know that I will never compare any of my exes to her.
Time is something strange because the past doesn't always measure up to the present. I know now that I am older that abusive people make everything too good to seem true while good people make everything seem natural and worth keeping.
Only time will tell when someone is actually good or someone is pretending to be good.

Count backwards it doesn't work with madness.
Beg the mental meds to work in the dark of night.
Holding out a pocket knife when everyone is sleeping to debate whether to **** yourself or not.
Writing emotional letters to your best friend to make sure they won't break your heart.
Crying at youth group where people are watching you meltdown like butter on a frying pan.
Never knowing how deep the sorrow is in the hole in your chest because religion won't fill it up or get rid of the grief.

You never realize you miss someone until you lose them.
I always feel like I am forgetting something or someone.
My heart starts aching as if a part of me is missing from me.
It's like I want to go through my good memories but it's the what if I end up breaching to the bad memories and mentally meltdown that gets me. Staring into space and daydreaming isn't praised by society.
I want to mentally reflect without psychologically relapsing. But my meds regulate my mood swings and depression. So naturally I can't be sad or depressed without feeling sick to my stomach and feeling like I can't breathe because my meds wouldn't allow me to feel that.
Sometimes I want to cry and scream in grief but I physically can't.
It's as though I can't be fully human. So naturally I get furious for not being able to be sad and depressed. It is the worst feeling hopelessly distant.

When you have story so full of details, wonders and converging side characters it becomes impossible to follow just one main plot line.
When your story is full of tragedies, hilarious moments, heart warming people, cold as ice radio silences and dramatic misunderstandings it's as though the story is already overflowing with curiosity.
To Let Go of the past, the hate, the ego and the rage you are left with a heart and soul. What will be left if take away all of that? Will you be free or will you be nothing? What are humans without rage and envy?
To Let Go of the pain and sorrow as well as learn from past mistakes you become a hero with glorious purpose or a rebel with trust issues.
I became a rebel with trust issues became being a hero is overrated and I can't save everyone, that's my downfall. I want to help everyone but not everyone is worth saving. Demons lurk in the shadows waiting for their next vicious move against humanity. Beasts fear vengeful angels. I am not lonely but I am insane. I am not afraid of the beasts and demons anymore they are powerless against my wits.

Sometimes I will call myself "The Phantom" because I love The Phantom of the Opera and I live in the shadows of my older siblings. No one thinks the mild mannered, overly polite writer can be a  reckless rebel with a wild side so strong that it scares people. Sure I don't wear a mask I live out in the open. But my emotional scars are secrets and I don't reveal them to just anyone. I wear my blue jack as my cloak and my fashion sense is spot on for having a traditional, socially aware family dynamic. My wardrobe is to please crowds and make my quirky heart happy. I am a low-key business woman. I know how people function. I know society's perspective of me. I make the most of my mood swings. If I am going to make it in this world I might as well impress people with my intelligence while doing so.

See I got your attention. Hi, don't die today or the next. It's your life not anyone else's. So ***** them. If they hate you for being different.
**** their opinions! You are special, weird, strange, impossible, loved and valued. If they hate you for being talented. **** their point of view! If you ***** with their minds enough they won't mess with you. I know so because I have evolved over the years into a strong, crazy, beautiful, mature, nurturing and loving young woman. The bullying never broke my mind nor heart. It did give me trust issues and doubt in humanity.

Maybe I am drawn to challenging circumstances because adversity is how my mother raised me.
Maybe I am magnetic to bringing some form of pain into my life whether it's by my own mind or my childhood of mother controlling my decisions or convincing myself that the Girl with Green Eyes was a good friend until I figured out she wasn't or my ex-boyfriend emotionally abusing me.
Maybe it is this way because I allow it or I simply am so used to adversity that I don't know what to do without it.

I have taught you communication and social interaction skills but you never listen. I try my best to care for your surface level chats which I never interrupt. You are shallow minded, lonely, friendless and hopeless. You think me caring for your over the top emotional outbursts is a sign of romantic love.
It isn't and it never have been. I gave up on men because of you. But you don't know that. You just see what you want to see. You bring out the worst in people. You describe everyone who ever cares about you as monsters because you are one. You disgust me with your talk of sleeping with my friends and little sister. You disrespect me and everyone in my life because you think you are superior to them.
No matter how many lectures I give you, you never listen to me.
We would never work together as a couple. I know that but you don't.
I break your heart over and over again because you never learn.
You think you reach my standards but you are beneath me in so many ways. I am too good for you and you are just a bad influence.
You never fight your demons but let me fight them for you. It's emotionally draining being your friend.