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If I didn't write
I wouldn't be able to keep sane
'Cause, then there would be no way to deal with the pain.

(a.d)
today
is the last day  
i'm crying.

today
is the last day
i'm hurt.

today
is the last day
i'm lonely.

tomorrow i won't cry.
tomorrow i will smile.
tomorrow i won't push away
the ones who love me.
tomorrow i will not be hurt.

tomorrow, yes.
but not today.
I’ve always been the outsider.
The girl who dreams.
The girl who laughs too much
and cries too much.

But most importantly,
I've always been
the girl who reads.

I raised myself with books.
In words I found salvation,
in those rows and rows of
soldier-like words
I found my closest friends.

From books alone, I learned
about friendship and family,
and love, and tolerance,
equality and death.

Like a sponge, I absorbed those ideas
and words, and phrases,
and all I read about,
and when the time was ripe,
the sponge bled out
with all the words
it had taken in,
and its ink blood
covered myriad pages.

I am so young, just a kid, really,
and my life so far has been
just a pile of books I’ve read.
I want to change this,
to create a new pile –
of the books I’ve written,
of the worlds I've made.

Clumsy poetry and short stories,
and unfinished novels,
and the constant voice
making up stories and characters
in the back of my mind -
that's what I live for,
and the air I breathe.

I’m so young, just a kid, really,
but I know what I want from my life –
I want to write books and shape the lives
of other little kids who will pick up my
books, and read them, and learn about life.
I keep the words you told me
deep inside my brain
and they bleed into my veins;
I'm bruised all over
and your absence
has driven me insane.
i think about the girls
in my class;
the one we have
an inside joke with,
tho we have nothing
else in common;
the one who plucks
my eyebrows
and asks me for
advice and
help with homework;
the one who thinks
i'm a nice person;
the one to whom
no one else is nice;
the one who likes
to hug me all the time
and calls me a friend;
the one who adores
chanel and likes
to talk to me
sometimes and sits
next to me in chem class;
the one i used to be friends
with but we fell out
though we still talk sometimes.
i think about
the other girls
from the golden five;
the two who are
inseparable and
nice to me and
understand me somehow;
the one who
shares my fandoms
and i can vaguely call
an actual friend;
the one i grew up
with who drools
over tom hiddleston
and sherlock and
books with me.
i think about
my literature teacher
who told me
she loves me
and about my
english teacher
who hugs me when
she's proud of me.
i think about
all the other teachers
who call me
exceptional.
i think about
the boy who used
to be my best friend
for two years
but we drifted apart
and yet he'd still
call me if he needed someone.
ithink about
the girl i stalk and
whom i send sweet messages to.
i think about
T. whom i love dearly
and V. whom i love dearly
and N. whom i love dearly
and M. whom i love dearly.
i think about my
sun and stars
who breathes for me,
my knight,
my heart.
i think about
the boy i love
and how even though
he said goodbye
he's "not indifferent"
(and about a promise
i made),
and about his mother
who adores me.

i think about my
mother who loves me the most
about my father
who calls me
princess
about my brother
who pulls my hair.
about my grandparents
and aunt and cousin,
about my mother's
best friends.

and then
i ask myself
"if all these people
are going to cry
if i happen to die,
if all these people
will lose sleep
and scream into
their pillows at night
and ask themselves why,
what does it matter
that i
don't
love
myself?"
I only desire
To escape this insanity
Which I held dear
long ago.

Now I scream
For a sane mind
And a perfect soul.
I'm bored and I'll probably delete this and I'm happy and sad and goodbye I'm boooored.
 May 2014 Michelle M Diaz
Kayla
2 am
 May 2014 Michelle M Diaz
Kayla
Love is not rational. It doesn't politely knock on the door of your heart and ask sweetly if it can destroy you all at once.

Love does not take you by the hand and explain all the ways that it will ruin you when it leaves. Love is a powerful hurricane that makes you sit in it's direct path. And forces you to pick up all the shattered pieces by yourself.

Love is a suicide bomber that we invite with open arms with out question to live next to the most precious and sacred parts of us.

Love is the fear that keeps us chained to the basements of ourselves hidden away behind bullet proof glass only to find ourself filled with holes left by cannons

Love is that endless crusade we suit up for. Only to find ourselves completely  naked on the battle field. Bruised and covered in tears that all to clearly look like our own.
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