I listen,
I watch,
I cry,
As my pen moves
Across the page.
Over,
And over,
And over.

The words I write
show the emotion I cannot
Express outwardly

I finish one.
I turn the page.
I continue.
One after another.
Constantly,
Endlessly,
Turning pages.

With everything that has happened,
I need a hero.
Writing blindly doesn't help anymore.
I need a new hero, a new savior.
Explaining myself, My views,
Possibly going too far,
Dealing with my disorder, my disease, my destruction.
I need a safe haven.

I had a dream.

You doodled on my skin,
And left your name.
You claimed me,
And, in return,

*I claimed you.

I am happy.
People tell me I "Radiate" it,
And I cause others to feel it as well.

                            I am just one hell of an actress...

I am happy, but not the way people think.

I'm with you, and I am.
But there is still that.
The disorder,
The disease,
The disaster taking place in my head.

                                   Could you cure it?

I just want to be as happy as everyone else.


                                                                                         Sincerely,
                                                                                         ~Kestrel

I think I should leave this page blank.
I wanted to write something for you,
But all of the lovey-dove-y romance-y stuff
Has been taken.

I wouldn't have been able to say it all anyway...
Maybe just a portion.

Now, though, I realize
I could never put it into words.

muchlikemyfavoriteflowerthehumanmindalsowilts

I wonder,
If you still lift your head,
From whatever held
Your attention,
When you hear my name.
And I wonder,
If you remember
The love we shared,
Until something else,
Grabbed your attention.

The bottom of my dress
ballooning out,
like a doily on the dance floor.

Feeling like a princess
As I held Mommy’s hand.

Twirling me all around,
Like a ballerina let out of
Her jewelry box.

My greatest dance partner,
To the best drummer in the band.