You're not really a baby, no more than I am an adult at 20.
I'm struggling to find the words to tell you that I understand.
I have been where you are.
I went through those days and nights when it felt like the world was against me.
Oh the nights were worse than the days, nothing like the ticking of a clock to make you feel alone.
Growing up isn't easy, kids at school are cruel and dumb.
I coped the way you're coping too.
Turned my body into a canvas in which I only painted with red.
Hid behind hoodies and long sleeved shirts.
Told mom and dad white lies about my newly painted "artwork".
So I'm not just some concerned family member condescendingly saying that I understand, I actually do.
I have fought that battle, and some days I still do.
I've been stuck in that darkness, felt the need to open myself up to fight my demons.
But baby brother, opening yourself up, painting those canvases will only win battles, and only for so long.
It takes family to really win that war.

She sits alone.
Many think she's lost in her own thoughts.
Sometimes she is.
But,
Most of the time she is lost in the world around her.
The people around her serve as a distraction from her own life.
She'd rather create stories for the people who pass by,
than think about her problems.
Fabricating stories of love for the couples who walk by.
Wondering if those who walk alone need a friend,
like she does.
She almost gets up to ask the people with the long faces if they're okay.
But then she remembers-
no one asks if she's okay.
Partly, this makes her angry, but
mostly she feels relieved.
What would she tell them?
Would they understand how she's feeling?
She doesn't even understand how she's feeling.
So she stays aloof, distant.
The observer.