January 26, 2014
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You call my writing incredible,
I call it weak.
As if I couldn't talk about my feelings to someone who actually cared.
As if this paper and pencil were the only things that cared.

You call my writing incredible,
but all I see is someone screaming for attention.
Someone who wants her voice to be heard but doesn't have the strength to say it.
I see a girl who doesn't have enough faith in herself to be able to tell people out loud what she thinks because she believes that no one will care.

You call my writing incredible,
I have nothing to say.
There's nothing that I have the strength to say.
Because this paper and this pencil, are the only things that know how I truly feel.

Therefore, my writing will remain forever, incredible.

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