I've b l  o   w    n        my lungs clean
                                                           ­       e
                                                   k
                                        o
                     ­         m
of cigarette s
So why would you asumme
I wouldn't throw you   o
                                          u

             ­                              t
with the rest of the         trash
that cluttered my life
and poisoned my mind?

I am quite impressed, you are a 13 year old who has been through so much pain. But instead of letting that pain turn you to a bad person, instead you turned it into a beautiful gift that only a few will understand. You are quite honestly one of a kind, the kind of person that will, of course in due time be able to spin together words and make something so beautiful that not even the Sun and Moon will be able to compete. You have so many years, if you keep on practicing and learning sooner or later the stars will quiver in fear. Only because the allure you put into it would put all the stars bright shining rays to a deep and utter shame.

i knew it when she came
and your eyes
shifted.

i knew you knew back then
how i secretly had invisible flowers behind my back
that i never had the courage to give you.

yet i let you break my heart.
i let you use me --
giving you hints about the girl she was
just further reminding myself
of the girl i can never be.

and even months later

i was still carrying the dead flowers
behind my back,
the ones who died from discouragement
and low self esteem.

but i still carried them.
within me,
their pollen sticking to my hair, skin, and soul.

i did what they told me to.
i sat down,
closed my eyes,
and breathed.
in,
out,
slowly,
repeat.
in this silence,
i felt the weight of That days,
all Those days,
on my chest and shoulders.
i played music,
like you said.
half opened eyes and tears rolling filled the acoustics in my bedroom.
i breathed,
as if it wasn't already hard enough.
i heard and felt my heart breaking over and over,
slower and slower with every breath.
it made me want to stop breathing at all.
if this is what you call "helping me",
i don't want it.
the silence rings in my ears.
i can see myself reading and rereading headlines and texts.
the denial i felt,
the emptiness i felt.
oceans of sadness and grief washed over me, i wanted this to be my end too.
i wanted to stay in bed for as long as i could,
i wanted to drown in my bedsheets and muffled sobs.
i did what they told me to,
to breathe.
i don't want to anymore.

I stopped believing in love when you told me one of the highlights of my broken and fragile life was “a mistake”