My poems are the black roses on the grave of the girl I used to be.
They came from the girl I am now.
Each rose has the title of each poem I have ever wrote written in gold.
"I" (meaning the girl I am now) stand in the rain, looking at the headstone, reading the words numbly.
No one can see me. I'm an angel.
I tell myself, "It will be okay," over and over again.
It's useless.
It will never be okay.
The part that scares me the most isn't moving on, but becoming numb to all the things I once loved

if insecurity was a religion people would follow nothing else
if self doubt was a political party people would vote for no one else
if depression was a country people would feel at home nowhere else

what did you do to me
you showed me world i didn't want
and now i want all of it
it's unfair you know
leaving me here by my self
...
/M.A./