i wrote you
a letter every day
letters to tell you
just how i feel

written in neat, curved
writing i told you
just how sweet
i thought you were
how you made my heart
glow

letters in which i wrote
with various colors of ink
pouring out my whole being
to you

i wrote you
a letter every day.

i wrote you letters in which
i told you how you made me
bloom.

eventually
i found myself
pressing harder on
the paper
than i had before.

creating tears in them
similar in shape
and size
as the ones
inside of me.

i began to send
letters
with creases
and bumps
and stains
splattered with tears

pouring
from my eyes

as i wrote
the anger
bubbling within me.

my last letter
addressed to you
contained
no words

but was blank.
because
i had none that

could reach
as far

and deep

into the cracks
of my
heart

to describe
just
what you

had left
of me.

You left me broken.

Because of you I judged myself a little harder.

Reasons you loved me were now the things I wanted to change.

Out of all things, you used my vulnerabilities against me.

Kindness was used as a weakness, but you were too. My love was taken for granted.

Even though I still loved you for a while afterwards i finally realized my worth.

Not only was i broken, but i was growing. And the new me was glowing. And the part of my life without you i just couldn't wait to show it. My confidence was my new strength and I had you to thank.

All because you left me.

It scares me. It scares me to think that at any point a kid tipped off the wrong may decide to use a gun instead of a brush and a school instead of a canvas to express their feelings. I don't want to become another drop of paint. I want to be able to go to school without worrying that that kid's gonna come and hurt me. Like a dog dead set on retrieving that bone I don't want to be in the way. But I guess I can't. You can't use metal detectors and police officers to see when a kids gonna snap. You can't stop them when all you have is your blunt pencil as a sword and your social studies textbook as a shield. They tell you to do this and that incase it happens but that doesn't stop them from slaughtering you like sheep. They say its just in case but that case is becoming more possible day by day and I don't want it to come! People joke about it but thats just to deflect the reality of the situation at hand. The reality that they can't be stopped when they are prepared to die, so i’ll say it again IT SCARES ME!

People like you and me have grown used to dancing along,
To the raggedy tune of someone else's song.
We are able to dance, and smile, and duck, and roll, and weave,
While still clinging tightly to the things that we believe.
Sometimes we are led to believe we will lose it all; our heart, our soul, our very name,
Afraid they'll take away the us-ness of us; but still we play their game.

I wonder how many others know how to fake their hand?
Who keep the love caged up inside, to appear "normal" and bland?
Perhaps it is just us, perhaps just you, or, again, perhaps just me,
Or perhaps each individual just sees what they want to see.

Perhaps.

Perhaps...

Or perhaps, but...

I had a vision once; all the bad thoughts in the world were mine;
I ****** them in from everyone else, so that all the world felt fine,
And while all other folk were safe at rest, I cried and cried and cried,
And toddled down some empty street, slumped down a wall, and died,
Taking with me all the evil thoughts- the hate, the pain, the strife;
I believe it was the happiest I'd felt in all my life.

I tell you that to tell you this; all people's pain is pain to me,
And I would gladly give you happiness, in exchange for misery.
Don't keep those thoughts locked up inside, and hoard them for your own,
Or both you and I will surely die depressed- afraid- alone.

Stress is like a dress made of weight.
It makes you hope that you aren't late or
It makes you worry you ******* Kate.

Everyone's life would be so much better without this pain.
Where are you Wayne!

It makes you want to take off your dress
of weights.

It makes you want to run ****.
But they will call you crude.
Even though they want the same.

Where are you Wayne.