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  Sep 2014 belle
It scares me to think that one day you'll forget my number.
You won't remember how I grew out my nails just because you loved your back being scratched.
That one day I'll try to find you,
and you won't know the color of my eyes.
I won't be the girl you tell your kids about whenever they need love advice.
But at least I'll always keep the memory of who we were together.
And my heart will never be far away from you,
my love.
belle Sep 2014
the loneliness comes over me like a tsunami, there is no hope in escaping,
"everywhere is the same". thats all i get. im stuck in a long tunnel with a debatable light glowing at the end. being different is both a blessing and a curse. being have made it this far, i do my best to warn others. if you don't fit the 'mold' then you need to move on else where, or you'll be trapped like myself. forced surrounded by a molded population, stuck in-between trying to fit in, and trying to remain the person that started this 4 year journey. High school is hell. and being "popular" isn't fulfilling, fake smiles, fake laughs, it's all a show really. everyone is just trying to survive, but it's not that simple. generation after generation we have been taught that fitting in is the only possible way. "try and blend. it'll make things easier. We love you, but the others may not see in you what we do". it's not worth not being happy. you know, things are really more ****** up than i chose to believe. I ignore the fact that I really have no true friends at my school. I ignore the idea of getting back with someone only because they make life easier. I ignore the ****** up place i've been placed in by my parents.
I know I'm young. I know i haven't experienced all there is to be experienced. but i do know high school. and it's just too much.

belle Jan 2014
I see the way you admire her.
Looking into her eyes while you're staring at mine.
It slowly but heartily overcomes me at day. At night is when it is at its worse.
Do I not fit what you are seeking for?
I ask nothing more.
It is her who you adore.
belle Jan 2013
Notions towards the end of time fly by endlessly.
I think of the one who let it slip
in a realm in which i call my own i fly away
I remain open to whatever may cross my path
time is nearing, we all must now let go
and follow our spirits home.

— The End —