dearest you,

my mind is like a blank paper, seems to be waiting for someone to write it a letter. i do not know how to think, what to say, or how to even breathe. in the past, i have seen the hard things in life pass right through me, and i haven't even bothered to react. it looks like i have never been hurt.

this is not a poem, but rather a letter to my parents telling them that yes, i may be young but i know the feeling of debilitating effects of numbness. that yes, i may be young but i understand the feeling of wanting to drown your overwhelming sorrows in alcohol, smoke, or the company of another person.

this is not a poem, but rather a letter to my family in which i express that the things i've been interested in aren't wrong. this isn't something i picked up off the internet or from a movie; this is something i've felt my whole life. i've come to the realization that i can love anyone the same way i love myself despite their differences.

this is not a poem, but rather a letter to my first love, in which i confess my desire and embrace the tender heart that dwells within me for you. while i understand that you may not believe me or ever see me with you again, the love that i have for you remains in every word i've written to you since it is only when i write my true emotions come out. however, the love that i have for you will only live on in every letter i send you.

this is not a poem, but rather a letter to my mind, in which i convey my view that it is alright to overthink, but that it is never tolerable to forget to breathe. you can't imagine your life without the adventures and warmth you've enjoyed. there is no way to live without conflict or hatred, just as there is no way to live without grieving or shattering. all of this builds to your self. so what's the point of changing it?

this is not a poem, but rather a message to my heart, in which i ask why you are acting as if you don't worry? scared to emerge from the shadows, scared of being crushed, why are you acting as if you are unable to love, as if you are unable to change the world, and as if you are unable to follow those dreams that are passing behind your closed eyes?

this is a letter to them, in which i wonder as to why they are fascinated with who to love at such a young age. why not just wait for it to cross the border? and if it's lost, why are you still there? being in pain and staring as if you are not wanting to try make it today.

this is not a poem, but rather a letter, written to you and your heart and mind in essence. a letter to anyone who wonders while they slumber their laments floating away into the night.

this is a letter from someone who is full of hope and desire to make a difference and leaving a word that you will not be entirely fine if you are not going to beat the whispers from hell.

always and forever,
amanda