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Why can't we be like grass?
When it gets stepped on,it gets back up
He saw you
He met you
He wanted you
He liked you
He chased you
He got you
He had you
He loved you
He got bored
He left....
He was the knife that slumbered in your back
 Apr 2014 suicidalsmiles
Rl
I've only been on this earth for 17 years
But already had the good honour of experiencing
evil and good from the youth of my peers

My precious vessel, you deserve nothing but the best
learn from my mistakes and make your life rest

One: The acne on your face does not determine how beautiful you as a person
Neither you're weight, height or stature. Your skin a shade of wonder, wear only the (dna) makeup of me and your father

Two: Your body is your temple, not a museum for those who want to feast on your flesh, for those dead eyes are shady and they want nothing less.

Three: Fall in love with everything around you, the stars, sky and moon. The sound of laughter, the rain drops too. Look from balconies and trees at the veins of the cities. And take pictures of people and weddings, savouring silver white memories.

Four: Make your own mistakes and learn. You are allowed to feel pain, there is still blood in you veins but don't let that sweep you away away away on dandelion heads

Five: Dearest, don't worry for a moment what they think; be prepared when they want to see you sink, respond with dimples, sunshine and light. For this is what makes the darkness strike

Six: Finally My girl love yourself, for all that you are and want to be; the music you love, the food you detest, those long family outings and that boy that you like best.

The list could go on and on with verse and song and book and word but Dear Daughter let this be the basis of your life. Carry it and write it on your flesh beating heart. For your flesh beating heart deserves life in it fullest.

©Rebekah Lazarus 2014
Just a draft, but a letter to my future daughter if I ever have one about how to survive life as a teen from a fellow teen. You never know in 10 years I may re- write this.
We all have secrets.

But walls have thousands
A declaration of benevolence
For a boy deprived of affection
Who is urged to bare his heart.
"I don't care"
Are just words verbalised in a manner
Seemingly self-convincing;
A facade of strength
When it's clear he's in pieces,
In despair, falling apart,
Trying as hard as he can to seem okay.
Mesmerising eyes express it all.
Occasionally one must hold their tongue
For holding your tongue is easily done
When one must deny feelings
Out of fear of challenging rejection.
Because both are apprehensive
In the face of emotion.
And she tries fervently to destroy walls
So resolutely built
With a motive of keeping out those with fabricated feelings,
While he didn't have to try very hard
To vaporise barricades of hers.
But how can it be demonstrated
That her sole intention
Is to show him devotion?
Original title from my writings: A poem in which I acknowledge pre-existing feelings that I tried to deny all summer.
It's midnight and
I'm awake and
I miss you.

It's been a week since we've touched
and I don't know how much longer I can go on
because I'm addicted to you
and your love.

Oh God, I miss you.
I miss you so much.
I wrote this in the middle of the night.
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