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 Feb 2018 PoeticPresident
I'm not afraid of darkness.
I'm not afraid of the monsters in my head.
I'm not afraid of loneliness.
I'm not afraid of the words you said.
I'm not afraid of suicide,
But I'm afraid that people won't care when I'm dead.
12:34 AM
 Feb 2018 PoeticPresident
"Blow out the candles, make a wish"
They said.
But they don't know that on those candles,
I wished I was dead.
 Feb 2018 PoeticPresident
Once upon a time,
There was a girl.
Say, fifteen, maybe.
She had the world at her fingertips,
And looked at it through the lens of a camera,
thanks to her contacts.

She had a boyfriend,
Whom she loved very much,
And a best friend,
Whom she loved very much,
And a family,
Which she loved very much as well.

A little bit of time passes,
And her best friend betrays her.
So she raises her sleeve,
And adds to the scars,
But still puts on a brave face.
No big deal.
She puts on the act again,
Because she wants to be an actress.
It was her dream, after all.

A little more time passes
And she joins marching band.
It's an escape, and she makes
More friends.
But then the fifteen year old drummer boy
Starts to pick and tease,
Adding more lines to the scars
Every single night.
But once again,
She puts on a facade,
And puts on another smile.

More months pass,
And not only has her friend
Lost contact with her,
But her boyfriend has as well,
Leaving her alone.

You see,
This fifteen year old girl
Cares a little too much
About everything but herself.
And her family picked and teased,
like the drummer boy,
And she can't take it anymore.
So she found her brown leather belt,
And wrapped it around her neck,
And pulled,
Because she couldn't reach the banister in her closet.
It was late after all.

The next day at school,
The fifteen year old girl
Cried in band class,
Because the drummer boy
Kept picking and teasing,
And the girl just wished he'd stop.

After she moved away and
Found her best friend again,
Things started to get better for
The now seventeen year old girl.
But the seventeen year old girl
Still feels trapped inside,
and sometimes
The once fifteen, now seventeen
Year old girl,
Wants to go back to
October fifteenth,
And make sure she didn't fail.
1:09 AM
 Feb 2018 PoeticPresident
My heart is beating, slowly but surely.
Just like you asked it to.
It still keeps time;
The metronome of my life.
Two years have almost passed,
Since we last said goodbye,
And somehow,
I'm still here.
I just really wish you were still by my side.

They say you never truly forgive your first real love,
And darling, I've found this true.
Because no matter who I'm with,
Or if I'm searching for warmth in others,
I still find myself rereading the journal of drawings and letters you sent me,
And smiling at the memories we shared.

So, yes, call me overdramatic,
Or selfish or something.
We all can act that way sometimes.
But my metronome heart
Ticks a little bit faster
When I see your face,
Hear your name,
Or read your words.

I apologize for letting us drift this far.

Love always;
Your Bee.
12:16 AM
Sleepless nights tend to become a trend.
 Jul 2017 PoeticPresident
his words were the mellow sound of church bells on the sixth hour
of the holy day. they were gospels, an ardent call from the angels
that hushed down the depths of my ears. but mostly he had all power
but left them all unsaid.
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