My weakness is what we'll discuss
One that some say is a plus.
A weakness that shakes meto my core,
Grows my fears until i cant take anymore.
I care about everyone i meet,
Wheater on the street or in discreet.
Ill never let a soul be sad,
Or have one think of doing bad.
Some may say its because im an angel,
That i can remive ones ever tangle,
That i can help them see the light,
Set them off in flight.
No ome sees the problems that are beneath,
The anger jealousy sadness just searchin for reilif.
Those which help the most have the most problems
They are always trying their hardest to solve them,
Like me just wanting the world to be happy
Its easy sometimes to look over me.
To forget that I'm the one who should come first
To give myself holy water for thirst
To bandage my hearts wounds
And not help others too soon
To take care of my mind foremost
To make sure i do feel like the worst.
But ill just keep my chin up,
Walking around like i don't give a ****.
Playing my facade off as the truth,
Making my mind and soul reach a truce.
in the end all i do is pretend,
Texting people hitting sense,
Living life day by day,
Waving smiling and still saying hey.
Thats what you have to do sometimes tho,
Bottle in all up and like a jar of snow.
Ill write now and again and let it all out,
This way ill prevent myself from scream and shout.

the way she cried, reminded me of how i cried, just awhile back. and how it brought back happy memories of when we were little. we would hangout, stare at clouds, and name the animal shapes of the clouds, then one day... we quit hanging out, she quit visting me saying she had better things to do now that we're older, she didn't have enough time for me... i caught a tear on my lip, it slide down, slowly salty taste lingering over, and the sorrow feeling of pain in the back of my throat. it was hard to breath, with that thoguth of pain that she found someone new, that she found someone better that could make her dreams come true...i waited for the words, that would bring me running back, the words like.sorry, or i miss you. the sweet little whispers she would hiss in my ear, and how i wish she would try to fight to get me back. wanting that same friendship again that i wanted, but... yet... i know-.. we couldn't be the same... she left along time ago... saying, "i'm sick," but it wasn't too long, that i got the message she had died, her parents had found her in her room, pills shattered on the floor, blood stained her arms, thighs, and wrist.



"i'm just sick" she'd say, i soon fell short, and let that get the best of me.... depression, and sorrow.... taking over, like a sick little dease that couldn't be fought, no matter how hard you'd try, no matter how much the doctor would give you, it just wouldn't be enough, to hide the pain, that you've felt, and that little piece of sorrow pain, that you forgot about, and became a big impact on you, telling you what had happened...



"you were never sick..." i'd say, laying on the wet, green lime color grass, wishing i had gone with you, no.... wishing i was the one that had dealt with the pain alone, instead of you... instead of you leaving life, in the middle of first grade.... first grade and you knew suicide... i wish i had stop you sooner, i noticed you'd changed, and with that i'd remember the drawings we drew saying we'd land on the moon when we're older, or how we said we would make our own garden, and add little roses, and lilies, that matched our flowery name. the little rain droplets, that i remember how we meet, you'd always wait for me at the bus stop, making sure Jerry wouldn't leave, until that little empty spot had me in it. wheater sunny, or stormy, or even power out, you'd wait, and say "today's the day, that we'd make our dreams come true" yet, even though we were little, our big imagination led us to a fun little friendship. we'd play tornado strom in the rain, and hide in the blue slide, we'd make up our own songs, and how we'd do the something together even if it meant trouble...  "i'm a be a songer." you'd scream to the class, and me wanting to say i'd be a model, but didn't want to because you didn't want to be that....



the painful sorrow feeling in my throat, as i felt the tears wanting to be let out, and my face buring red, as i'm told the news, that i didn't understand, and i didn't show up at you're funeral, because i didn't want.... to see my friend dead, but i keep our games alive, and i play tornado by myself even if it's less fun....