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alone
broken
crushed
destroyed
empty
******-up
gory
hurt
isolated
******
killed
liquored
murdered
nonchalant
ostentatious
painful
quitter
resented
stupid
troublesome
ugly
vicious
*****
xenic
yielder
zymotic

STOPSTOPSTOPSTOP
STOP IT NOW

you're not
a
word

a word
does not
define

look in the mirror
right now.

this is not you.

close your
eyes
and
see
your soul.

"Hello,
oh wow,
you're gorgeous."
this one is for you
little soul.
this one is for you
broken heart.
this one's for the person
who cries late at night.

you're not
alone.
and it's not over
yet.

stay strong.
go on.

the blade is not
the answer.

stay strong.
move on.

tomorrow
will be
better.
today
is the last day  
i'm crying.

today
is the last day
i'm hurt.

today
is the last day
i'm lonely.

tomorrow i won't cry.
tomorrow i will smile.
tomorrow i won't push away
the ones who love me.
tomorrow i will not be hurt.

tomorrow, yes.
but not today.
they ask me
why i read.

they ask about
the books in
my room.

well here it goes:
i ripped my heart
out of my rib cage
and cell by cell
i tore it apart.

i ripped my soul
out of
wherever the **** it was
and thread by thread
i tore it apart.

and then
i opened all my
books
and between
each page
i carefully
tucked
a cell
or
a thread

and now
my heart
and soul
are safe
inside
the stories
other people
had to tell.
I’ve always been the outsider.
The girl who dreams.
The girl who laughs too much
and cries too much.

But most importantly,
I've always been
the girl who reads.

I raised myself with books.
In words I found salvation,
in those rows and rows of
soldier-like words
I found my closest friends.

From books alone, I learned
about friendship and family,
and love, and tolerance,
equality and death.

Like a sponge, I absorbed those ideas
and words, and phrases,
and all I read about,
and when the time was ripe,
the sponge bled out
with all the words
it had taken in,
and its ink blood
covered myriad pages.

I am so young, just a kid, really,
and my life so far has been
just a pile of books I’ve read.
I want to change this,
to create a new pile –
of the books I’ve written,
of the worlds I've made.

Clumsy poetry and short stories,
and unfinished novels,
and the constant voice
making up stories and characters
in the back of my mind -
that's what I live for,
and the air I breathe.

I’m so young, just a kid, really,
but I know what I want from my life –
I want to write books and shape the lives
of other little kids who will pick up my
books, and read them, and learn about life.
i wanna take back all the poems
i wanna take back the ''i love you''s
i wanna take back all the tears
i wanna take back all the troubles.

but then i don't.

you deserved the lines i wrote
you deserved the misused quotes
you deserved my happiness
and you deserved my love

i don't want us to be over.
but you're gone.
so i should swallow
and let you leave
and let you go.

and i shall live
with those last kisses
and your arms around me
and the way you squeezed my face
and made me swear
and i shall live
with the thought
that you cried for me
and i shall live
with the ghost of your touches
and the sense of your lips against my skin.

but i shall live.
and i shall miss you.
but i'll move on
and you'll be over.

i know that you don't love me
i know that i don't matter
but i loved you
and i love you still
and soon i will be better.
music allows you to
i n h a l e;
to breathe, live, and
exist.
e x h a l e;
to breathe, live, and
exist.
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