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Everyone deserves one.
Everyone messes up.
Second chances save lives.
So why am I so worried now?

You asked for forgiveness.
Said it would be different now.
Never leaving me again.
So why am I so worried now?

Second chances help.
They fix what has been broken
Repair what has been torn.
So why am I so worried now.

Giving you a second chance
Is giving me a second chance.
So why am I so worried now?

-E.T
 Mar 2021 Elle Richard
KellzKitty
I'm worried about my mind
I'm worried about my feelings
I'm worried about my weight
I'm worried about my face
I'm worried about not being good enough
Im not as hot as your friends
I'm not as pretty as the other girls
I'm self conciois
I'm worried that I annoy you
I'm worried im not good enough
I'm worried im not perfect
I'm worried you won't want me in the long run
I'm worried I'll lose you
I'm not worried about if I'll cut tonight
I'm not worried about the panic attacks I WILL have
I'm not worried about not being able to eat
Or throwing up anyway
Or crying when nobodies around
I'm not worried about me
I've been through this pain so many times
It's like a stupid broken record
That I'm about to just throw away

I'm worried about you. . . .
What are you doing?
Are you talking to her. . .
Forgiving her. . .
Learning to hate me. . . Finally. . .
Are you hurting, in your room
Are YOU able to eat?
Are you putting the knife down clean?
Are you waking up in sweats
Are you crying and broken?

Are you okay. . .

I guess I know you're not. . .
But I want to know how not okay you are. . .
I want to know that you are at least functioning
I want to know that your dad isn't hurting you
Physically or mentally
I want to know that you aren't alone
That no matter how much I hate him
He is there being your friend
Making you smile
Making you laugh. . . .
Because laughing always makes you feel better
And I know you hate being alone. . .
I don't want you to be alone

So I'm worried
And every time I think about you
Feeling the way I feel right now
I panic and I can't breath
I'm so worried that you are all I dream about
I'm so worried that when tomorrow comes
You will have your head down in the hall. . . .
Hearing nobody at all. . .
Alone. . .
I'm worried because I can't do anything
He said. . . To look walk the other way
And she will be watching. . .
Making sure I do nothing to help
Running to tell if I even smile at you
Wave. . .
I don't want to be the cause of more pain

Yes I'm worried. . .

I'm worried that I might of destroyed the most beautiful person I know
the waves rose the waves fell the waves rose the waves fell; the waves roused the waves, and fell the waves; it rose the waves and fell the waves that rose yet the waves did fell; the waves rose the waves fell and their waves rose to the waves that fell; the waves rose and rose, but then other waves fell; the waves rose the waves that fell the waves which rose; the waves felt the waves rose; the waves fell as the waves rose; the waves fell against the waves that rose; the waves fell and the waves rose; the waves fell and the waves rose but the waves that fell felt the next waves that rose; the waves fell to its knees; the waves rose in droves; the waves fell and wept; the waves rose to help; the waves fell the waves rose the waves fell the waves rose; on and on the waves fell with the waves that rose; watch the waves that fell when the waves rose; the waves fell in wells, sipping from the waves which rose; the waves fell the waves rose on and on the waves fell for the waves that rose; the waves fell in the deep; the waves rose and lifted its kin in heaps; the waves fell with the waves who rose; the waves fell hard for the waves that rose; the waves fell to the waves who rose and rose the waves that fell to those waves that had rose; the waves fell the waves rose the waves fell the waves rose the waves fell and fell for the waves to rose; the waves fell the waves rose the waves fell the waves rose the waves fell in shock to see the waves rose their waves which fell; the waves rose the waves fell the waves rose and rose; the waves fell and the waves rose; the waves fell the waves rose the waves fell the waves rose the waves in their fell; the waves rose the waves fell the waves rose the waves fell; weeping, the waves rose, for the waves who fell; the waves rose the waves fell the waves rose the waves fell; time trickled to and by as the waves rose and the waves fell; the waves rose the waves fell the waves rose the waves fell; hurt and weak, the waves rose from the waves that fell; the waves rose the waves fell the waves rose but their waves fell

on and on and on
                  we see, they
  rose
and      fell
 Mar 2021 Elle Richard
Abimael
Someone told me, that I have so many addictions.
Addiction to lust.
Addiction to life.
Addiction to dreams.
Addiction to music.
Addiction to arts.
Addiction to ladies.
Addiction to goals.
Addiction to money.
Addiction to alcohol.
Addiction to...
Overall, my answer to it the all..
What is life, with out this feelings
What is life without knowing,
What is life without  pleasure,
What is life without her...
"what is an addiction to you?" they asked, “well” you begin, “an addiction is having a cigarette, and just when you finish it, you feel like you need another one” but what you have yet to sink into are the depths of your imagination that you can’t care to to dwell on, because you’re too busy floating on the surface of your own soul.
You see,
An addiction is having your first taste of the igniting fumes as they dance on your tastebuds, manipulating the fact that no matter how good it may taste, that is what’s going to destroy you. its pushing the pessimism out of the inevitable because you’re fooled into being blind enough to think that this isn’t the thing thats going to **** you. It's the trick it plays when you think the smoke is beautiful as it caresses itself around your touch of naive passion, when the smoke is only the remains of the damage you’ve already faced.
It's a belonging you covetously latch onto in a desperate attempt to find any source of comfort, when you don’t even realise that it's only comforting because you’ve filled it up with everything you hate about yourself, every word you wish you never said, or thing you wish you never did. It's filled with every person you wish you never met and hurt you wish you never faced.
But maybe its the kind of addiction thats filled with everything you love about yourself, every word you wish you did say or thing you did do. Maybe its filled with every person you wish you spoke to, or hurt you wish you had to face. either way, you’ve locked that up so deep down inside of you that you’ve lost the possibility of an easy escape, you have to find something that destroys you to make it reappear, even if it's only a brief reminder. A delicate touch. A gentle wind of scent.  
You see, nothing is ever like your first addiction. You could be skimming pebbles before you realise to shoot stars, but no matter how much bigger or brighter that star may seem, it will never truly give you the same release that skimming that pebble did.
You let your addiction take over your senses because you believe thats the only thing that can give you a sense of comfort. You don't even begin to consider that this addiction is whats burning your withered soul into nothing but a pile of ashes, swept in the wind of humanity and reality. An addiction is living with the reality of rotting flesh and damaged bones; you can’t even stand alone because you’ve let your addiction glue itself with the fear of loneliness to your hand, so you think of nothing other than it being a part of you, an attachment, a parasite ******* the life out of you, whereas all you’ll ever believe is that its ******* the poison out of your pure blood.
An addiction is something you may not even realise you’re addicted to because you haven’t let yourself get hungry enough to lust for it. It's always there. It's destroying you. Even the smell of your addiction gives you a sense of relief that you’re not alone, when in fact the smell is there to remind you that you are trapped in a state of your own mind.
You have chosen to be oblivious to be the flaws it possesses, because at the time nothing can seem better than your first addiction, nothing in this world could beat the smell, the taste and the touch of your first addiction, and you have let that take over your senses to a stage where if that addiction was taken from you, it would hollow out your heart like a pin pricked egg.
No addiction is better for you than your first love.
Did you really think i was talking about the cigarette?
When I'm hurt, I cry,
I always want to fly away like a butterfly,
When I'm hurt, I try to fall asleep,
When I'm hurt I tend to be very deep,
When I'm hurt, i can't think,
My feelings might change with just a wink,
When I'm hurt, I day dream,
When I'm hurt, I wish I was really free,
When I'm hurt, my anger makes it so hard for me to breath,
When I'm hurt, I want time alone,
When I'm hurt, I want to be at home....alone,
When I'm hurt, I feel like I was pressured,
When I'm hurt, I feel small and weak,
When I'm hurt, I feel left out and like a geek,
But I'm not a freak....
When I'm hurt, its hard for me to dream.........
It hurt when I looked at her--
It hurt when I looked at her--
It hurt when I looked at her--
It hurt when I looked at her--

It hurt when I looked at her--
It hurt when I looked at her--
It hurt when I looked at her--
It hurt when I looked at her--

It hurt when I looked at her--
It hurt when I looked at her--
It hurt when I looked at her--
It hurt when I looked at her--

It hurt when I looked at her--
It hurt when I looked at her--
It hurt when I looked at her--
It hurt when I looked at her--
 Mar 2021 Elle Richard
ln
i still am trying to hold back my tears as i write this down. i thought about on my way home and debated with myself for a good 3 hours and decided that i have to write this, if not for people, for myself.

i visited the ward as a visitor today. it felt weird to be on the other side of the door. it felt weird to be on the other side of the glass, and it felt weird to look into the eyes of someone i once knew.

it hurt that as soon as i walked through the open doors, i hear the screams of a man speaking in a language i did not understand. it hurt to watch him being pinned down by 2 men almost twice his size. it hurt to watch his mental pain being temporarily stopped with physical pain.

it hurt as we started talking. it took almost every ounce of courage inside of me to hold my tears back, because i knew that me crying would dampen his spirits and affect his recovery. and i knew exactly what that feels like.

it hurt to sit back and watch him explain his illness in terms i knew far too well. it hurt to hear him say " stay here, you would understand this more than anybody else. " it hurt that i understood. it hurt that for that brief moment, i didn't want to understand. i didn't want to be in there. my legs were shaking but i listened anyway.

it hurt to hear him explain how the electricity worked and hurt his jaws. it hurt to tell him to be strong, because i knew how much it would take out of him to just try. it hurt that he cracked up jokes in the middle of our conversations, i didn't feel like laughing at all.

it hurt to watch so many people suffering from illnesses they never asked for, it hurt to watch so many of you suffering from the pain you don't deserve. it hurt to just sit there and not be able to do anything about it. it hurt.

but it hurt because it wasn't my place to feel hurt, it was yours. it was your place to scream and shout. it was your place to cry and break down into a million pieces.

but it hurt because you couldn't, because in your head you are fine. in your head, you're at work. in your head, none of this ever happened. in your head, 20 cops didn't restrain you. in your head, this is a perfect world.



but it didn't hurt because i knew deep in my heart that no matter what, the way i feel about you will never change. the strong, courageous, brave, joyful, kind, happy man that i grew up knowing will always have a place in my heart. no amount of ect's and antidepressants will take that away.

*so thank you, for opening my eyes to all the pain in the world.  thank you, for making me understand that there is greater suffering in the world. thank you, for teaching me the value of gratefulness. thank you, for educating me, even if it was through your suffering.
 Mar 2021 Elle Richard
Soulace
They may remember my breakup because it kept coming up. Kept coming back. Some may think that my breakup was the thing that hurt the most last year. It wasn’t.

It hurt more to get my heart broken by somebody else.
It hurt more that I had to see her around every time I was around my friends.
It hurt that her name came up everywhere I went, as obscure as it was.
It hurt more that my fondest memories of last year weren’t with my former love, but with her.
It hurt more that I considered my masterpiece of a song to be one about her, and not about my former love.
It hurt more that gazing into her eyes I saw a myriad of puzzles to be solved and a seemingly endless, impossible maze that I wanted to travel in, but never got to.
It hurt more that I bottled these feelings in because I was in a relationship.
It hurt more, the nights I kept up, thinking about what if I gave it just a little more time.
It hurt more to think that maybe I made the wrong decision about who I loved.
It hurt more to rush into love like I did, and miss out on the one thing that may have been better.
It hurt more never to see her again.
It hurt more to forget her smile than my former love.
It hurt more that her laugh was one of the most beautiful sounds that I’ve forgotten.
It hurt more that I stayed up all night thinking more about her than my former love.
It hurt more to know maybe I fell in love with her more than I did my former love.
It hurt more to think about how much it must have hurt my former love to find out.
It hurt more to think how much I took from my former love, and how I threw her away in the end.
It hurt more to use the word threw away instead of broke up in that last sentence.
It hurt more that maybe a part of me still wishes things went differently
It hurt more to feel that wave of anguish to know she didn’t love me back
It hurt more to feel that feeling of defeat to think I tried so hard
It hurt more to feel nothing for my former love, and how guilty I should have felt but didn’t.
It hurt more to realize though, that through all of it, I wasn’t blameless. I had fault.
It hurt more than a thousand papercuts, cutting away, slowly at me. Taking bit by bit of myself.
It hurts most that my break up didn’t hurt me at all. It was her breaking my heart that hurt the most.

It stings now to know
That there’s a part of me that may still love her, wondering if she loved me back.
But now I’ll never know.
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