I miss you.
I miss you a lot.
Dear friend,
There’s so much I still don’t know- that I won’t know.

Remember? We laughed and sang and cried and learned and loved.
I do.
Remember when we talked?
We talked for hours about everything. About nothing.
I do.
Remember late nights with a high moon and loud music?
Dancing and sharing dreams.
I do.

I will always remember you. How cool we thought we were. How close we became.

Where are you now?
Why did you fade away without even saying goodbye?

Remember when you said we’d be friends forever?
I do.

I miss you.

But really
fighting for peace
is like
******* for virginity

They say the past is in the past. That whoever you were two years ago doesn't matter right now. Because in this moment, you're exactly who you want to be. But the truth is that even if I cut my hair up to my shoulders, change my name and move five thousand miles away, I'll still be the same little girl who's frightened by her own reflection. The last time I sliced open my own skin was over six months ago but some days, I still can't help but think of ways I could hurt myself. People do change, but there is always that small part inside of them that knows who they once were, and how capable they are of becoming that person again.

If it's Opposite Day,
wouldn't it not be Opposite Day?

My bitter friend,
For when I'm sleeping,
I am not angry,
I am not lonely,
I am not sad.
I'm just me.
Slumber is not my trouble,
But waking to the nightmare existence that I live,
To which I must concede.
My dreams are of you,
Playing,
     Laughing,
          Running,
               Happy,
                     Smiling...
And WAKING to....
                                         NOTHING...
A hole in my heart,
                                              NOTHING...
E­mptiness in my arms where your head used to lay...
                                                          ­NOTHING!!
Who really NEEDS sleep?
It's getting old anyway....

"My mother warned me about smoking cigarettes, so I never put a cancer stick between my teeth. But she forgot to mention the boys with dark eyes and smiles that make you weak in the knees. The funny thing about addiction is you don't know you're hooked until it leaves. It's been three years. But how can I move on when there are still traces of you in my lungs, leaving no room for me to breathe?"
-Kahla Mercadante