I face a storm every day. I can't seem to find the right thing to do or say. I'm like World War II all over again. The feeling of being alone, isolation, the loud sounds every turn you take, and the heartbreak of knowing that the only trust worthy people are no longer there as if there were killed on the front line. If I were to die today I would be more than okay. I can't take another step on this reched place. I can't lye in bedands sleep. I toss and turn until I end upside down or sideways. My smiles, hugs, and friendly, happy gestures blind you from what is going on inside me. You could never guess. My walls are crashing down around me, I can't bear the pain any longer. I cry out wondering if it will ever stop. Screaming in a crowded room, everone as if they can not hear me. I wonder if I would be missed if I commited... I can utter the word, or if my spirit would be just a waste of your air space. My life is a wonderful, terrible thing that I know, no matter how much I try, I will never make it. You yank each and every nerve I have left in my body, until I am weak and can do no more. I am screaming for you to turn around and actually look at me, but no you don't want to t ake the risk of being the girl that hangs out with her. I called you my bestfriend, but now you are just, you. I don't want you to cry when I'm gone. I don't want you to be near me. I want all the precious memories we had through our childhood, let them hang just like what your letting me do. I don't want you to remember my face, because I will never remember yours. You are the one that killed me. You were my last life line, but you cut me off like a loose string on your shirt or your shorts so they will make you look like what you really are, a hoe. You blame the innocent so you the guilty party is to caught up in your ego or reputation. If you have a reputation you earned it. They wouldn't have said something that ticked them off, or you actually are what they call you. But know this, you may be me. The girl that is tough but has a fear cause physical harm. The girl who isn't scared to speak up. The girl who bleeds whenever you lash at her. Those wounds are the ones that never heal. I'm leaving, this will be the last key I will ever touch, and it's all your fault.
November 21, 2009