Teach me how to love again.
Teach me to love again.

- One word can change the meaning of a simple sentence.

But that is not my argue. You see, I lost the love I thought I understood then replaced with a caring heart. A caring soul.

Which once I believed was love; was abuse. And now left curious wondering through time like a drunk cat becoming ever so curious.

Am I leaning to far on my heels?
Will curiosity **** me like our dear friend?
Will I shrivel into a mindless existence?
Who will I lose?
Who can I love?

Teach me to love again... For I want to love you.

"Schotoma"
A partial loss of vision or blind spot in an otherwise normal visual field.

In a way, we all ignore the obvious things in front of us without realization of ignorance. I remained oblivious.

Oblivious to the boy in the corner who knew I was beautiful before I came to the realization myself. I remained ignorant.

Ignorant to love I didn't believe I deserved; we accept the love we think we deserve.

I have come to understand, I deserve a lot more than I once believed.

Blades split my wrists.
Pills fill my stomach.
Fourteen years young yearning for eternal rest.
But why must these thoughts consume my mind in class? At home?
Deathly shadows hold hands; wrapping around craniums boney crown, through eyes, finger tips and toes. Sealed from mouths, sound never escapes thy lips. In death, and in life. For blades will always speak a written language on arms and thighs that can never be told through expression of word.