The most important thing I've learned this summer is that it's okay if I am my own best friend.
I learned to love myself, and not to be sad when someone else treats me bad or if someone doesn't Treat me the way I treat them, cause the only person who will always be there for me at the end of the day, and every night is me.
I learned to give myself a break, sometimes Not everything is my fault. I'm not useless.
And most importantly, when no one else loves me, I know that I always will.
It's true, not many knew her.
Why she acted the way she did.
Not even her own parents could figure her out.
But, she always said that meant she was doing a great job at being different, something the world forbids.
She was always misunderstood, but she never had a care to give.
For The That Never Really Cared.
I swallow hard
I can see it move down my throat
The slender curve of my neck scarred
The memory fights to stay afloat
It claws it's way back up and in.
It's scent tearing at my skin.
For a moment I hate her.
The girl standing before me,
I hate her for giving up,
I hate her for giving in
I hate her for not being stronger
For letting her weakness win.
But I can't keep breaking mirrors,
and hating reflections.
No good can come from hating what others have done.
She fought, she screamed, and cried.
I f**king tried.
I can't be a slave to yesterday and my thickening pride.
I followed a dream over the horizon.
Swam in the dark side of the moon.
Felt pleasure, love, and freedom on the other side of that dune.
But I only hold the reins to myself
I cannot control them, or him.
It's just me, overflowing, and full to the brim.
Then she stands tall, her slender neck strong, a deep breath drawn.
And strength brings color back to her cheeks.
The hatred, and memories gone, placed firmly in the past.
And I recognize myself again at last.
If I let myself be myself,
then this world will never
have a case of snatch theft
if I let myself be myself,
then I will never be myself.
As the water runs off the tap,
let it flows, let it glows,
If I ever be myself,
then the book would never
meet its owner off the shelf
if I ever be myself,
then what else would have left?
As the mother falls off the map,
let it shows, let it grows,
Cut is temporary,
reside deep in the bow.
you curl away
you in what had hurt
and made me and
you turned conversation
into sharp edged silence
you turned my page
you stepped away
you made me
comfortable now im
the odd one and i will never
show you my innards again
as if you are a vegetarian
cannibal you ripped me
open and laughed as i bled
out onto your sweet soft skin
and you enjoy it because
you love secrets but you hate
any real inconsistency
which is what i am apparently
i cant help it but to be naive in your image