First, I forgave the bullies
Who made me cry.
I didn't know your story.
You didn't ask for mine.
Now the hard part.
I forgive myself
for the mistakes I've made.
It's been a long, weird game.
But so far, I don't regret
The way I've played.

Wrapped in silk and satin
she has been waiting
long.
She doesn't expect him
not anymore, but habit
stays.
She nor grins,nor frowns
standing at the end of her lawn
alone.
The day count lost numbers,
lost many days and slumber
hours.
Hope faded, love went,
only she stayed
so far.

Sometimes the only way into my brain is to read my poetry.

Because talking to people is terrifying. And I don't know how to not be socially disastrous.

I don't know how to stop saying the wrong thing, so I don't talk. For fear of saying the right thing at the wrong time. And so far, I have become a train wreck of my mistakes. So I write.

So you're reading my life on pages. And this is real.

I can tell you with absolute certainty that these are my honest thoughts.

I know there is no good explanation for my actions.

I know there is nothing I can say to fix what happened.

But I'm willing to try again.

I'm willing to try.

I know I upset you. And I get why. But I am not strong enough to tell you face to face, so my thoughts end up here.

And that may not be the best thing I could've done.

I know.


...I know.

My headphones are on.
I know what I'm hearing.
And I hope you can hear my heart break with every hit.
There is no excuse.
There is no cover up.

You wouldn't allow me to sit idly by and listen to you drain the blood from your hands.
I've been there, I've done that.
100,
200,
300,

Are you even counting? I'm not, and even I know you've doubled up on the hits.

I can hear it.

Can you?