If I had a dollar for every time someone said that they just wanted to forget,
I would have so much money, and it wouldn't even be funny in the the slightest.

Well, not for me, anyway.
See, I'd have tons of money and everyone else still would really want to forget.

But they would never realize
That, of course I still remember every single little detail of it all.

Yes, I still remember
What it was like to cry until everything somehow worked itself

Just hoping, wishing, wanting
For something better to come along and make everything settle itself down.

My problem is really that I don’t care to have anything in my entire life forgotten
Because everything changed me for good, even if it was really something quite rotten.

Sure, I’ve had some things I’d
Really truly like to not have follow me around for a long time

Yet, there are so many other
Goals, dreams, wishes, and aspirations that I hold near and dear.

Systematically, if I change one little thing
All others will somehow change themselves as well, almost like magic.

Problem ends up being,
As it seems to be every single time this happens,
That the issue really is picking the right thing to alter.

Surely I could pick anything that I wanted
And just wait and see what happens to me

Just wish upon a shooting star in the night sky
For everything to somehow transform for the better

It likely won’t happen to me
But the fun isn’t in it happening
The fun is in getting to dream about the future
About what might be
About what could happen with one little difference

I could become someone else
And become delighted with this new life of mine

Or, I could become another
Who is everything bad about myself brought out tenfold.

Either way,
As far as I am really concerned

No matter what happens with an alteration
Whatever may come my way

Anything, absolutely anything
Is preferable to this insanity that encircles me daily.

See, I could have a dollar for everything that people wish to forget
And I may come up with a sizable chunk of dough to spend to my heart’s content

But I would rather have (as it is to my advantage to do so)
A dollar for everything that I have managed to remember all these years

Because then, as sad as many of those memories may be,
As many as I should really long to forget about and
Just give in and leave behind

Would be all the memories that made me who I am currently.
Then I would have enough in my pocket to create something to go back in time.

When I first told people, so many years ago,
That I could never get cold, no matter what,
I., myself, really, truly believed it.
It wasn’t a lie when it really was the truth.

No one thought that it was actually reality.
But it was my reality, not theirs.
They didn’t have to believe anything I said.
It was their issue, not mine.

Many people refused to believe what I’d
Told them so many years ago and then
Continued on to think was real
For so many more years to come my way

Eventually, the day came when,
I, too thought that. I may be wrong.
Sure, it could have gone a lot worse.
But it also could have gone much better.

The truly funny story comes here
So, see, I'm coming out of swim practice
And there's snow all around me
But I'm dressed for summer.

Coach Beth asks if I'm cold.
And of course I say that I'm not cold
In my flip-flops and camisole.
I really was quite content at that point.

It's unforgettable to everyone
How I would wear shorts
And tanks and sandals
In the dead of winter.

Only because I could.
There was no hidden motive.
No siree, there was nothing more;
I really just enjoyed being that way.

And then years later I ran out
It was the middle of the night
There was a huge wind chill
But I had known that before leaving

And my hair was sopping wet.
And I only could grab flip flops.
And I could not find a jacket to wear.
And I worried, because I was cold.

It happened once before
I was outside late at night
And goosebumps were everywhere
I looked and didn't want a coat.

So I think that I have into
This idea that everyone must get cold
Because all I had wanted to do
Was fit in, and that did something.

But I would not realize until just one
Year later from that date
That cold may sometimes be
More than a physical condition.

See, you can be cold because of
Something silly like the weather
Or you can be cold because of
A serious matter like relationships.

That's what I've learned in the
Wacky time I've spent on this planet.
I've learned that people are the ones
Who end up hurting you the most.

I had never really been wrong
And I still am not, in truth
I never am physically cold
But that isn't what it meant

So it took years to get there
To that weird conclusion of mine.
But now I know that a bad ending
Really can turn you stone cold.

It must have been no less than a week ago when you asked me why it was that I looked so very sad and why it was that I never said anything. You said that you understood, but I highly doubt it. This isn’t just something that is situational and can be pinpointed. If it could be, then I could figure it out. But it’s not that simple. It’s never that simple. I wish that I could explain it to you, but it’s much too complicated.

Do you want to know why….
I never tell anyone what is going on
The world seems like a dark, scary place to me
I still see the world as good, despite evidence to the contrary
Nothing that  you ever really need to be told is said
I will never try to tell you about anything
Please, don’t understand. Because,
I actually really do like you and care about you.

What you don’t know is that I have a really good friend who knows when I need to be left alone and when she can come talk to me. You don’t know that I actually have someone who is okay telling me all about herself and never asking me about my life or how I am. If I really wanted to talk to someone, I would talk to her, a longtime friend of mine, the girl whom I have somehow, and God knows how, made into this.

But it is not that easy, I hate to say, to….
See everyone laughing with friends
Realize that I have no one because of my own doing
Know that I caused all of this hurt
Believe that nothing I ever do is enough
Look around and realize just how little I’m worth to the world
Ponder about life and think how much is out there
Be certain that my dreams really could never come true.

Certainly you realize that I am not an easy person to understand. That girl, who is by best friend, time present, has told be that I am predictable and a surprise. I thought that was lovely. Little did I realize that it would not be so simple to continue being that way when others have found their place in the world and I am still wandering around, in search of mine. But I always was the odd one out. No use changing now.

You don’t believe that I understand.
You don’t believe that this is for my own reasons.
You think that it will stop with help.
You think that “I love you” is all I need to hear.
You thought that it would help out a lot.
You thought coming to talk would be good.
You knew that you were pushing a boundary.
You knew that I wouldn’t want to talk about it.

But you asked me anyway, And so, I haven’t told you a **** thing. I know that it is quite rude and mean and I understand if you want to run and tell the world. But I lost a friend because I wasn’t able to be there for her. I lost a friend because I wanted to be selfish and could not take the time to step back from my own issues to care about her. I lost that friend because I was the problem. So I took all the blame.

One day, I would love to explain to you
Why it is that I have a wall ten stories high,
Crafted out of mortar and brick,
With no room to add in any sort of window.
I’d love to tell you that it is because
Every time I have let it come down,
Even just a very little bit,
The person who knocked it down ran away.

Go ahead, I dare you, try to tear down my cemented wall. Try to change me. Have at it. If you can do it, you’ll have won the most coveted prize of all. But I really don’t know how you’ll be able to do that. Many have tried for so very long to accomplish such a feat. The only one who stands a chance is my best friend. One word, and I’d break it down for her. Yet, she is not daring or bold enough to even try to do something like that.

It would make me so happy if she would try to do that.
If she would even consider pushing the boundary,
Ask a question a second or third time in a row,
Push for an answer that I don’t want to give;
Oh, if she could be so bold as to even try that,
If she could do that, even just for a day,
Then I think that I would have to give in to what she wants
And then she would get every answer she’s ever wanted.

Issue being, you are not she. And she is not you. Were you both to be each other or somehow become the other, then I suppose you’ve found your loophole right there. You have found that which will somehow become my demise or pitfall or whatever the hell you want to call it. But I really just want you to understand that I am not ready or willing, quite frankly, to tell you something that no one else knows.

You are such a sweetheart,
I do want you to know that, okay?
But it is because you are a sweetheart with
So very many friends and such popularity
That I could never ever open up to you
And I really don’t know how else to explain it to you
Except that to say,
Darling dearest, the truth is going to hurt you.
But I know you and I know that you won’t accept that as an answer. I know you, I know that you just want me to tell you everything. But are you aware what the cost of being told all of that is? You will know a secret that I want to be taken with you to the grave, while you will feel obligated and obliged to tell other people because that is, in all honesty, probably the right and noble action to take

I’m very sorry to have to tell you,
But I’ll spare you the waterworks
By only giving you a brief overview.
You have so very many friends.
I have a few, at best, and
Am their last option, on a good day.
You are sought after by so very many
I would **** to have someone even glance my way.

See, I cannot tell you anything because I am all too good at hurting those that matter most to me. I really do believe that you care. But listen to me, hear me out. I have been down this road before, where people care and they really seem to want to know everything about me. But I really don’t want to drag you on the emotional roller coaster that I am. I know that’s not enough for you. But it’s all I’ve got. Take it or leave it.

Yesterday, I thought that my wish had come true
Because I was standing there, thinking everything was now new.
And I thought that things would now be better.
I thought, now everything will be resolved.
Foolishly, I assumed that I had control and I would be fine.

These past five months have been really nice.
Well, the five before the immediate past three.
Good things come in threes, that’s what I was told.
Apparently bad things like that lucky number, too.
Bad things like three and good things like five.

“Three’s a magic number” is something that I have heard quite frequently.
It seems to make sense to everyone,
As a way to explain why things happen the way they do.
So why are things that I don’t like also allowed
To happen to me, in this world, in threes?

“Two’s a crowd, three’s a party” is simply
Another one of those phrases I hear tossed around.
It should make more sense now.
That’s why good chose to come in odd number five.
Add two and three - they make five.

Sure, it was really aggravating to me this time.
Wishing upon shooting stars is supposed to make any and
Every wish come true, every single time.
Trust me, it actually did come true, and that was lovely.
Even if it was only for a very short time.

So, they don’t let you know that it’s easy to be ready.
All I hear on the topic, is: steady, or, “ready, Freddy?”

It was so very easy, with myself, to be concerned.
But look at me now, all these things, with which I’m adorned.

Everyone is so easy to be around today
A big change, but a great one, I say.

They seem to look at me, thinking that I’m pulling a stunt.
Although they think I cannot see their worry, I can; they are being rather blunt.

Were I to have been told that being fine would be so easy peasy
I may not have been as concerned about giving in, lemon squeezy.

For once, I ran around and played some games with others out there.
We all were in it to win it; they needed me, to be fair.

Yet, it seems as though they really truly like me.
Maybe myself really is the best thing to be.

Today I laughed, screamed, ran, shouted, had a **** good time
Should anyone ask me, I can only say: It was sublime!

That was yesterday, when I promised to be more daring.
Do not fear, it does not mean I cannot also be caring.

This feeling is so wonderful, so nice.
If it could last forever, man, that would suffice.

I made a wish last night, as I looked up high at the stars,
Please, I asked them, let this last awhile. Let me go far.

At the young age of fifteen I dragged a blade across my skin
After fingers went way down my throat.
And sure, I felt like Hell, and I knew it was wrong
But, honey, I was going to look like Heaven sent me down.

It had become apparent to me that no one was going to believe
That some poor, lonely girl could ever become problematic
Because she didn’t look the part
And so she could never ever play it.

So I knew that I had something going for me
Even though I still doubted that I really belonged.
Because, sure, love, I had no one there,
But that also meant that I received no unwanted questions.

There was a little voice inside my head,
My conscience, holder of my sense of rights and wrongs,
Telling me it wasn’t right, it hurt,
Telling me that I should stop before I went too far.

But the voice telling me the reasons I should was stronger.
It’s not like anyone will care, it said, you have no one.
All people want is someone who will look like who you’re going to become,
Then you’ll have friends, real ones this time, it said.

Sadly to say, or so I’m told, it’s supposed to be sad,
I went on and on doing stupid things,
Not once caring about how much I was destroying myself,
How I only continued to feel worse and more alone.

Day after day, I did the same **** things that I had been
Told were wrong for any young person to do.
Yes, it really was something that I was not proud of
Ask around, or don’t, it’s not as though I told a single soul.

I did not want them to feel bad for me
I did not want their fake pity and concerned glances
I did not want to find out that I was only wanted
When I was troubled and nothing but a charity case to be fixed.

A few months passed and only red marks
Resembling lines, some straight, some intertwined,
Of sadness and shame that I still felt,
Were how I chose to release everything I felt.

I was not concerned with anything more than being
Alone and able to chose how my life was
Without anyone else trying to dictate my life for me.
I was not letting those I don’t like write my story.

Only later would I find out that I am able to
Write my story myself and call my own shots.
There are still purple marks all over forearms and thighs.
But, for the next few months, I may just be alright.

I did not feel the need to do anything stupid
Anything that I could not undo or fix.
And so, for a few months, I was alright.
I somehow found the will to fight myself.

I found that I had the power to decide not to do this
It was really nice, you know?
And so, for the time being, I really am happy.
The issue is, the problem is myself,

So many people ask me what I would do if my words were limited
And never do they ask me about what they should do,
Were their words the ones being limited.

They all stand there, so content, so easy going, so willing
Just to be themselves. And so they scream and shout,
Never realizing that words are something to not take lightly.

Did it never occur to them that they’ll have to say something more
Than just the words that they think people will need to hear?
Why do they ask me what to do? Why do they think I’ll know?

Should I know how to reserve my words and still say something,
Were I not confined to only knowing that words are beautiful,
That they all mean something,

Perhaps then I could help them out,
Use more words in a sentence than I would in an essay,
Possibly end up helping them out.

But at what cost? At what price?
I have been selected because I say so little.
Should I ruin it once to help out many more?

My heart tells me that words need to be reserved and
People need to conserve their syllables
Or else no one will listen, because everything will become background noise.

Stupidly, my mind disagrees with my loving heart.
It would be better to risk everything just one time
Because what’s the loss of one when it means the rescue of many?

As always, I embark on quite a debate with myself on the matter.
Do I want to do this, when so much is at stake?
There’s a great chance that I may be inclined to say more, again.

So many people continue asking how I say so little.
I sit them down, say it will only be said once.
Once silence falls, they finally understand that
Silence can have as much power as words.