It’s strange that when I first met you,
Our planets rotated in opposite directions
Really, I hardly knew your name.
You were the girl with the turtle backpack.
You were that girl in my theatre class.
Funny, that I had absolutely no clue,
In the very near future you would become
The person that I share everything with.

I laugh when I look back and remember,
We first bonded over a television and a couch.
We soon became “brain twins”
(And let’s be real, we definitely are,)
And I still love our little brain-touch
That we do when we have the same thoughts.

You are truly my best friend,
I hope you know that and always do.
I’m always here for you.
No matter if it means
Going home for a while,
Watching Peter Pan in silence,
Or breaking pickle jars.

I want to take this time to thank you,
For breaking through my shell.
For all the long conversations where
We have shared so much about ourselves.
For always being by my side
And for being completely honest
No matter how much it hurts.

Thank you so much for being the friend
That I always hoped I could have.
Your friendship means the world to me,
And I know it’s something we will always share.

I've always loved Alice in Wonderland
Ever since I was little.
I was never quite sure why,
but then I realized,
I was jealous.
Jealous of Alice.
I wanted a Wonderland of my own.
I wanted to have tea with the Madhatter
and my very own Un-birthday party.
I wanted to hold hand with Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum,
and walk through that beautiful place,
While they showed me around.
Now that I've grown up I have different desires.
I want to smoke hookah with the Caterpillar,
and talk about life with the Cheshire Cat.
I want to dethrone the Red Queen
and free all her guards.
I want to escape my world
and go there.
I like this life, at times.
But it's just not for me.
I want to be free.
I want to follow the White Rabbit around,
to see what he does all day.
I want to paint all the red roses my very own blue, and purple.
I want to go to a place where it's always tea time.
I want to explore.
Just like Alice,
I'm a different person today,
than I was yesterday.
And the day before that,
and the day before that.
I want to go mad,
and not receive society's judgments for it.
I want to go to a place,
where I'll be accepted as I am.
Where all it takes to get there is
just a simple seemingly long fall down a rabbit hole.
Where the plants sing,
and the animals talk.
I want to go to that place,
I get scared sometimes
that I'm losing my muchness.
I get scared that my thoughts are making sense,
I don't want them to make sense.
I want to be at that place
where non-sense is accepted.
And they'll all love me for who I am.
I've come to realize what I really want is a Wonderland,
not a reality.

Everyday.
Every ******* day.
I have to have this conversation
with you.

About what an idiot you are.
How ******* pretentious you are
to think you could ever have him.
Do you think he even notices you breathe?

Probably not.
Maybe you should try not to
That might get someone's attention
you pathetic little piece of worthlessness.
You should be ashamed of yourself.  

How arrogant can you be?
To think you would ever be considered
worthy of his time and attention.
He is everything you lack.
Everything you will never be.
You are a monster.
He is everything that is good.

It amazes me that even though
you know you don't have a chance in hell
you still make up these
little fantasies in you head.
You still write poetry about it.
You mind keeps convincing yourself it isn't so
but your idiot heart won't let you forget.

It's a little cute.
How impossibly naive you are.
It's time to end this little charade
and just give up.

You could turn off your feelings.
Or you could just stop thinking about it.
Or you could really show you care
and **** yourself.
Stop the embarrassment.
End the nuisance.
But suicide would be pretty pointless since
you are already dead.

Everyday.
Every ******* day.
I have to have this conversation
in my head about you.

I want to scream it so loud
that you can't help but hear it.
But the truth is, I know
you already know I'm right.

So I stop talking.
I look away from the mirror,
away from my reflection
and continue with my day.
Praying I take the advice.

Do you know what *****?
Not being good at everything.
I sat down at the piano
To practice for the umpteenth time
Millions of thoughts rush through my head:
My form *****
I can't hit the right notes
My fingers don't want to work together
I can barely read the music
I will never be able to do this
I ****.
I was born to believe that I needed to be the best
At everything I did
To please my parents
And get the recognition I deserved.
The truthful "well done" from my mother.
But there came a time where getting A's is all they expected from me
So when I would get above and beyond 100 percents
I got nothing
No well done, no good job.
Yet my brother who would narrowly pass his spelling tests
Would get commended for his work.
Pushing myself harder and harder to be the best
Every second of every day
Has lead me to be unhappy whenever something isn't to the level I think it should be.
I know that perfection is impossible
And that you can't be good at everything.
But every time I fail
It feels like I'm dying a little inside.
Frustration. Anger. Depression.
I can barely hold it all together.
This pressure to be perfect may seem unbearable,
But it's my way of life.
Without it, I have no idea who I would be.