I know this may seem odd.
You’ve probably heard stories about me, some of them may not be such good ones.
That’s why I’m writing this.

Don’t make the same mistake as me.

She likes someone who cares enough to be there but also lets her be free.

Don’t make the same mistake as me.

She’s not a materialistic person but remember it’s the little things that count.
Buy her flowers, surprise her with candy. She loves chocolate but not the dark kind so be sure you don’t get it or she’ll give you that grumpy look that is adorable but still means business.

Don’t make the same mistake as me.

She has a great sense of humor, is loyal beyond belief, has more beauty than meets the eye, and a smile that could end a war.
Admire everything about her.
The way she drinks from a cup as if she was a small child.
The way her eyes crinkle at the corner when she smiles.
The way that she laughs, because you can tell it is so genuine and filled with love.

Don’t make the same mistake as me.

She is more of an indoors type of girl. She likes to stay home, relax, maybe watch some tv shows while snuggled up against you.
Though, that doesn’t mean she doesn’t like to go out.
Take her to a funny movie, take her to a fancy dinner, entice her with a picnic in a park.

Don’t make the same mistake as me.

Don’t take her for granted.
Don’t flirt around with other girls if you get bored.
Don’t **** up your second chance if she gives you on, because she is just that loyal and loving that she will give you one.

Don’t you dare make her cry.

Her tears are the most depressing thing you could possibly witness.
The terrifying sound she makes when she sobs heavily is too much to bare.
I
f you make her cry, be there for her.
Hold her and apologize as she grabs your shirt and pushes her face into your chest.
Console her.
Make a promise to make everything better and actually keep it.

But most importantly of all, don’t make the same mistake as me

Don’t leave her.

"I'm fine," she says with a halfhearted grin.
"I'm fine," she says again, waving away a helpful hand.
"I'm fine," she says to herself, several minutes later.
"I'm fine," she whispers, wiping her face.
She's not fine.

"I'm fine," she says moments after the cry leaves her lips.
"I'm fine," she says to herself, sinking to the floor.
"I'm fine," she tells herself, shaking in a ball.
"I'm fine," she repeats, picking up the razorblade.
She's not fine.

"I'm fine," she says to her concerned family.
"I'm fine," she insists as those who love her worry.
"I'm fine," she says to anyone who listens.
"I'm fine," she lies as she slices her wrists.
She's not fine.

"I'm fine," she cries, sobbing on the bathroom floor.
"I'm fine," she wails, but only in a whisper.
"I'm fine," she mutters, watching the blood leave her wrist.
"I'm fine," she practices, stepping from the room.
She's not fine.

"I'm fine," she assures the world outside.

Why cannot here be peace
on this many colored world there could be
where the circles of pain and hate
burn ever moving into victims
freezing hearts from loving movement
to the stillness of the never born
the unsmiling grip of payment
where shrieking heard cry
they owe for what they did
though righteously deny the fee that comes
breathing vilely above ignorant heads
feeding of words that know no better
cursed to echo what went before
for the circle only knows this
here  past is the future
there future the past
and without breaking the endless spinning
change shan't be able
we all cry for a hero to change our ways
though to step forward is too much
though when they come
as one treat them as have been treated
and expect them to be better
hope they will be better
beg them to be better
while we tear them screaming
down to equality
in the dark and pain
from where escape only exists
in the fragmented dream of peace.

shattered hopes and broken dreams;
i've really had enough of these.

bring it on!
though, really, i'm just a fawn

so new and struggling to stand,
you should really give me a helping hand.

they help me lots, these words of hate.
they help me to create.

as i sit, i ponder what you said.
and it really gets into my head.

and now i sit here, pen in hand,
and am thankful, now i can stand.

although you didn't help (you hindered)
and though you left me feeling splintered,

i thank you, Dad, for those hurtful things you said.
i thank you, Dad, for the occasional smack on the head.

you've made me strong.