She goes about her day to day and does her duties to perfection,
She cries alone and works her way through fears and self rejection.
No one knows this angel is carrying around such grief,
If they only saw a glimpse of things they'd sigh in disbelief.
She seems to be so perfect not one single flaw,
Everyone looks at her with envy If they only knew it all.
Her heart aches with loneliness and her tears disguised with pride,
Why does she care what they think its becoming too much for her to hide.
She sits at home and pours her heart out to a man that doesn't really care,
He never hears a word she says he looks right through her as if she's not really there.
She is running out of friends to confide in and family's gone astray,
Alone and broken hearted, she slits her wrists and slowly fades away.

One more year older,
Another year wise.
Pity that you haven't grown,
One year in size.

You are a great friend,
And an even better best one.
You have shown me how to enjoy life,
And just have some fun.

I'm eight days older than you,
Which means I'm the boss.
And here's what I say:
"Go get lost!"

Let loose, go and party,
Enjoy your special day.
It only happens once a year,
So shout "Hooray!"

I'm a freak.
A ******.
That's what I'm known as.
Or I could just be different.

Who said your favourite colour had to be pink to be cool?
Who made this rulebook?
So what if I prefer combat boots to stilettos?
What if I want to be different?

I am me.
Just. Me.
And if you don't like it, you can ignore it!
And, newsflash: You don't have to like me. I'm not a facebook status!

Because you know what?
I tried being normal.
But it got boring.
So I went back to being myself.

I am running so fast,
With no one to stop me.
I have been freed at last,
I am finally happy.

You have kept me holed up for years,
But now I am gone.
And I have no more tears,
I am in a better form.

You told me I was worthless,
Then I started to believe you.
I was an emotional wreck,
Until I started anew.

My new life is without a person like you are,
I realized I don't need you.
Which makes me much happier,
So now, you are gone. Phew!

I hope you miss me,
I hope you regret what you caused.
Because even though I am happy,
What you did was against the laws.

So maybe one day,
I'll see you once more.
And then your dead body,
Will lay on the floor.

I hate physical pain,
But stored anger builds up.
And going down memory lane,
I yell "That's enough!"

I'm done,
I am finished.
We had fun,
But you left my heart mished.

So I will forget,
What we once had.
Because the past is yet,
To leave the world that bad.

I see you running through the white snow,
Your ebony black hair whipping around in the wind.
I call out your name, and you spin around, looking to and frow,
This is when most people would stare.

Your honey coloured eyes and porcelain face give you an innocent look,
But I know what is on your mind.
I can read you like a book,
You are wearing a mischievous smile, and I know what that means.

Before I have time to react, my face gets slammed with a snowball,
We end up play-fighting for ages.
And I build a snow wall.
After having an awesome day, we lie down in the snow and talk for hours.

I can see the delicate white snowflakes,
Cascading down your head.
And soon enough, the myriad makes,
A crown upon your hair.

We are friends forever,
Just us against the world.
We will never part, never ever,
Because its been like this for a while now, and nothing has stopped us before.

You are perfect with your imperfections,
You are the one I want to be.
You make me aspire to do things,
You are a role - model for me.

You are kind, you are smart,
You're lovable and free.
It seems you've unlocked the door to perfection,
Please can I borrow the key?

Not only only that, but you have been blessed with looks,
And a heart as pure as the sea.
I love you for being you,
But I despise you for being better than me.

I think you are wonderful - don't get me wrong,
I am just being a pain in the knee.
Don't worry your flawless perfect face,
It is just me being me.

This is what I thought of you,
Until I could see...
That you have problems too,
Just like everyone - and me.

This has taught me not to judge,
Where as I am now able to see.
I am no longer blind in stubbornness,
So thankyou for being patient with me.

My world is shattering
Walls falling in on me
Each bit of care for my life are crumbling one by one
I no longer feel anything, I am a shell of a person

I was supposed to take care of you
I'm the big sister
I failed you
I'm sorry

I was your protecter, your bodyguard
Now you are no longer on this earth, but you will never be forgotten
I guess this means 'God' was in need of your sweet pure soul
I hope you don't miss me as much as I miss you, then you would be in pain

As I think of you, I have no regrets
You are perfect to me
Is this what it feels like? Love? When you care more about someone else's life more than your own? Is this love?
I guess so. I love you.

The sound of snow crunching under feet.
The sound of children, laughing.
The sound of trees swaying in the breeze.
The sound of birds, engrossed in their song.

The sight of white delicate snowflakes blanketing your ebony black hair.
The sight of children running freely.
The sight of leaves blowing through the wind.
The sight of birds, soaring high through the sky.

Instead of seeing a flower, I see a beautiful plant that looks untouched by anything mortal.
Instead of smelling dead fish, I smell the sand dunes and the sea.
Next time you see, smell or hear something, appreciate it. Cherish it.
Because tomorrow at least something will have changed. Tomorrow nothing will ever be the same.

Alyra, remember that day?
That day at the park?
You were three, and I was eleven.
We went to the park with Daddy, Mummy, Molly, Arielle, Ella, Erin, and Pete.

Remember? You played on the playground with Ella and Arielle.
While Erin was teaching me to play basketball.
It was around August, so not too hot.
After we ate lunch, the big kids played touch footy while you went to the sandpit.

At the end is the day, when everyone was talking, you presented me with a big bunch of dandelions.
I told you and the girls to collect some more and I'll make jewelry with them?
You would take off that silly neckless for hours until it broke.
Then, I plaited  flowers through your hair. You looked even more beautiful then you already are.

Just before sunset we danced and danced and danced.
That was the day you taught me 'Doggy Doggy'.
We watched the sunset - all of us.
You were sitting on my lap telling me about your day at kindy the day before.

Alyra, baby girl, try and remember.
Because one day, you won't be a baby girl anymore.
You'll just have memories.
That is why I hang on to them so hard. Because I never want to forget. And I never will. Not when it comes to you.

Conflict.
War.
Battle.
Call it what you want. It is all silly.

Why do we do this?
Why do we fight for land?
Does it give us satisfaction when we drive a sword through another's chest?
From what I've heard, no.

So, why then?
Because really, if this goes on...
There will be a day when humans will destroy each other.
There will be nothing left. We'll have to take drastic measures.

If we weren't so obsessed with money and land, then maybe we could change the world.
Completely get rid of poverty.
Help others.
So, in general, the world would be a better place.

Tomorrow won't be kinder.
Tomorrow won't be a better place.
Unless we show we are worthy of a better place.
Then, maybe, just maybe, there will be one.

"We're fickle, stupid beings with poor memories and great gift for self-destruction.
But who knows? Maybe this is it. The time it sticks.
Maybe we are witnessing the evolution of the human race.
Think about that."

Dearest Jailyah,
You died a placental death.
Did you know that?
I wish you hadn't.

I never met you.
I merely have a photo of you on my phone.
You are one of the most beautiful babies I have ever seen.
You are my cousin, never to be forgotten.

Did you know that the name Jayla means 'a gift from the God'?
You really are a gift.
You had slightly dark skin, and dark brown hair.
Like all babies, you had blue eyes but as you got older they would have turned brown like your parents'.

Nessa, your mother, really misses you.
She cried when she found out you didn't live.
She loves you and the rest of her many other children.
Never forget that. Never ever.

I can't stop thinking about how we would have visited you in a few weeks, and then again in a year.
Of how we would have given you a very girly outfit for your birthday, because then at least someone in the family didn't walk around in jeans all the time.
We'll think about you every day. You'll live in our hearts.
I'll miss you forever and always. I'll love you - forever and always.

Waiting in the dark. Just waiting.
I can't sleep. I will wait until morning.
I just can't risk having that dream again.
That one dream. The dream that changed my life forever.

I dreamt that I was running so fast that I felt like I was flying.
I felt amazing. Smiling, laughing, feeling the wind blow through my hair.
As I approached a house, I saw it was on fire.
When I moved close, I saw that it was specifically my father's house.

"No," I said. Then I started screaming.
"No no no no NO!" I was starting to hear screams.
It was her. Alyra. She came running out of the house as if she was on fire. And she was.
Her pink-white shirt got caught on the door and she was stuck.

I tried to run for her. I did. I really tried.
But these hands grabbed my waist.
I looked back, and could see a boy. Blonde hair, but the face was blurred.
I was so mad that he wouldn't let me get her. I punched him and kicked him, but he just wouldn't let me go.

All he said was "I'm sorry."
Throughout my dream there were so many people whom I loved that died.
Alyra, Molly, my mother, my father, all my close family members like young Isabel, Rose, and T-J. Lilly, Maegan, Mahali, and SO MANY people died.
Each time I couldn't save them.

Then, at the very end of my dream, I fell into a pit.
Everyone who I couldn't save came and buried me alive. Each person giving me one shovel of dirt.
The list went on and on.
I woke up sweating and thrashing about.

And this, is how I learned that I really should not make any more friends.
It hurts to care about people, it hurts to love people.
But there are some whom I just can't help myself with.
I hate caring about them, but it pleasures me to know that they are safe... Safe. Ha. Safety doesn't exist. And the sooner we figure that out, the better off we'll be.

Some kids at school don't like me. That much is obvious.
But the problem is, I don't like me.
But really, how could you like me? With my limp brown hair, and my grey-blue eyes, its pretty obvious I'm no beauty.
My parents don't know.

And then, there is my brain.
Sure I may be in the class that excels in education, but compared to everyone else in the class, I am as dumb someone who can't spell 'car'.
I hate being me. I hate myself.
My first kiss was at a party as a dare. I mean, come on.

I don't deserve to be School Captain.
She deserves it.
She is a better person than me
I must punish myself.

I skip my next class, run home.
Get these things: 1.8 metres of rope, a hammer, an empty glass bottle, a knife, a chair, salt, a pen, and some paper.
I go into the bathroom.
Write a note about how sorry I am to my friends and family.

I smash the bottle. I draw pictures on my arm with it. Using my blood as ink.
I look in the mirror. I see a crazy girl staring back at me. "I hate you! You are worthless!" I scream.
I grab the hammer, smash the mirror.
Use the broken pieces to draw patterns into my leg. Rub salt into the wounds.

I am feeling weak. I am hurting. I am feeling dizzy.
Nearly there. Nearly done.
I grab the knife, slit my wrists.
It hurts. I scream in agony. Blood is streaming out.

I sit on the chair, sobbing into my hands.
I sit up, and try to make a hangman noose.
I can't. I'm too weak. Instead, I rub the rope against my neck until it is red raw.
Finally, when it is all done, I sit on the floor and think, just think.

My parents will find me. I will be featured in the news. I can see it now:
'Human Ragdoll - Girl kills herself in family bathroom, but not before torturing herself.'
Next it will say: 'Parents of the girl say, "We had no idea. We thought she was fine." what is the world coming to?'
Of course you didn't know. Not that you ever took the time to care, I think.

I can hear my parents walking through the door.
I whisper "Goodbye." and I can feel myself fading away. Today was fun.
My father walks through the bathroom door. He holds me and whispers "Stay with me baby, I love you."
I get time for an "I love you too." before I am pulled into darkness.

I run through the long grass, trying not to make a sound
I can hear them coming close with every cautious step I take
I pray that they won't hear me
Take a few  silent few steps forward and hide behind a tree.

Slowly, carefully I rise the rifle to my face
Aim. Take it off standby. Shoot
I just took lives. I go and get the little boy out of the rabbit hole I hid him in
I, just plain old me, just killed people.

I sit, dwelling on what I have just done
Self-defence or ******?
I like to think it was to save the boy, or as some noble crusade to honour my country
But in the end it just means that I valued my life over theirs. Doesn't it?

How many people is it okay to **** in order to keep me alive? Hmm?
At what point do we lose our soles if we haven't already?
It was ******: They hadn't provoked me
It was self-defence: If they found me they would have killed me. Which one is it?

I grab the other guns, they have some good models
I tell the boy to try and and clean up any evidence while I dump the bodies
They weren't much older than I was, and they looked just as scared
I just killed soldiers. Now their painful moans and scared faces haunt me in my dreams.

Every scar tells a story
They are not an ugly mark
No, instead they are a bravery mark
Proof that you will sacrifice everything to do what needs to be done.

You don't have disgusting scars all over your body
You have stories all over your body
And one day, someone will come along willing to listen to your stories
But until then, you must go on and look over the staring faces - and make your mark.

I have learned that scars are possibly the most beautiful things that have come along with pain
I am now no longer embarrassed of my scars
Instead I stand tall and show people that I am here
Scars are beautiful.

He hits me.
His own daughter.
Can't he see what this is doing to me?
Can't he see the bruises that he leaves?

The kids at school have started to ask questions.
I hate to think what would happen if they found out.
I don't want their pity.
I just want my father to stop.

He is always mad at me for something.
Like last night, for example.
I made him spaghetti instead of roast like he wanted.
So, what do I get? A beating. And he ATE the food anyway. Didn't give me a single bite.

I'm hungry.
I haven't had anything to eat in about 36 hours.
Why doesn't my father like me?
Did I do something wrong? I hope not.

He wasn't always like this.
It started years ago, when I was 9.
Right after my mother had killed herself.
I had found her, sitting on the bathroom floor with empty pill bottles spread out around her.

I ran to his work, telling him the news.
He took me home, sat me down. I thought he was going to comfort me. I was wrong.
He hit me. Just like that.
I've cried every night since. Silently, though. I don't want to give him the pleasure of knowing he hurt me.

I get good grades, have a good singing voice.
I am School Captain, have a pretty face.
I am good at the arts, excel in sports.
I am the luckiest girl in the world, right? Wrong. Couldn't be more wrong.

School ends.
I run home.
I write a note to my father:
'Goodbye. Mum wanted to get away from you, now I am too. And the only thing I regret is not doing it sooner.'

I lock myself in the bathroom.
No, I will not **** myself with pills.
I am not my mother.
I did not marry that sick man.

No, I will defy him in the best way possible.
I run out of the bathroom.
Grab a length of rope from the back shed.
Try and prepare for what comes next.

I still remember how to make a hangman's noose.
And there I go.
I hang myself.
Right above the front door. Where he will see what he made of his little girl.



The man weeps. He knew it was wrong.
He would have stopped if he knew it was this bad.
He hates himself, but he must go on with life - and make it a good one. He will show his darling daughter that he can be a good person.
He sits on the ground, thinking of what he made of his little girl...

Russia and Sunny
Are so very funny
The way that they play with each other
They peck and they claw
All over the floor and being so different's no bother.

Russia meows and
Sunny goes 'POW!'
And flies all over the room
He hits some walls
And then he falls
With a big loud crash and a 'boom'.

Russia gets scared
And hides under the chair
And she doesn't come out for an hour
She doesn't come out
Until you shout
"**** **** come eat your chowder!".

Fire
Sizzling and hot
A burning sensation to the skin
Leaving ashen faces and scarred bodies

First, it starts off as nothing more than a spark
Then, as it grows larger, fire will catch, and this is when the real fun will begin
Later, as if being an inferno is not enough, something will add fuel to the fire, causing it to be uncontrollable
A blazing flame will arise, making everything around it to go into peril

The fire will destroy everything that comes in its way, having no mercy
Once all the burning has done, the few remaining survivors will crawl out cautiously, as if they are ready to bolt at any second
Struck faces and burned bodies will be forced to get right in and work right away
Yes, fire is an unforgiving thing.

This girl is on fire
She sees the world differently
She has a different sort of determination in her eyes
She cannot understand how other girls just sit there and wait for Prince Charming to come along

This girl is on fire
She wants nothing more than to protect her family
She never cries, or shows any weaknesses or vulnerability
She doesn't have everything in life, but wants to make the most of it

This girl is on fire
She doesn't believe in love or fairytales
Perhaps that is the reason she reads about them
Maybe she is just waiting for someone to prove her wrong
She sure hopes not

This girl is on fire
She is the girl that everyone wants to be but no one wants to approach
She is the girl who sees herself as a waste of space
Everyone knows her, but nobody takes the time to see past the mask she puts on

This girl is one fire
She has been burnt by flames before
But what can she expect?
You can't play with fire and not get burnt.

My little girl,
You are innocent and sweet.
You are the most precious thing
Anyone could meet.

You are my social butterfly,
You are clueless to how horrible the world can be,
Of how sad it can make people feel.
But all of YOUR sadness - I will make sure it goes to me.

You don't deserve to feel pain,
I don't want you to grow up the way I did.
You are my dandelion in the spring,
Even though your'e my stepmother's kid.

I love you more than life itself,
I would give mine away for you.
And some days I can only hope,
That you love yourself as much as I do.

With your golden hair
And crystal blue eyes,
People may underestimate you,
But from me they will be despised.

So my darling Alyra,
So perfect and young,
When I am thinking of you,
The words "I love you" will easily come.

If you go searching through the bush
And look under some rocks,
You'll find a little fairy sprite
In bright green stripy socks.

Upon her head she wears alei
Of bright and colourful flowers.
And when it rains she collects the drops
And that is how she showers!

She wears a dress of golden silk
She's spun from cocoons in the trees,
It's glued together with native honey
She's stolen from the bees.

But if you try to trap her
And keep her for yourself,
You'll be turned into a warty toad
By her friend the elf.

Growing up too fast.
Facing the real world too soon.
'Cause Dad isn't there.

Love is not needed.
Makes you weak and vulnerable.
We're wasting our time.