Un-numb

In the last four or so years, there is nothing other than writing that I have ever really ever felt the need to do. It was in writing that I found life and hope that I never found in my own life. Bring others things to life such as characters was the one thing that truly kept me alive. Giving them perfect lives and living out happiness and loss gave me the courage to live out my own life. It was like I was investing time in myseld through them, and through these characters and voices I found myself with a foot high of papers. I wanted to be heard. I wanted to feel like I wasn't alone in the world, even when I was. My characters and poems gave that to me because in writing the story of their lives, I uncovered part of my own. I owe my charcters my life. Both Kara, Rose, Ami, and all the others. They taught me it was okay to feel, even when the rest of the world was telling me not to.

Fragmented Seconds

My screen lights up, and I know that as soon as I see the smilely emocon, I know for a fragment of a second you are thinking of me. I may just be just another girl to you, but know, just know, that in those few moments of your day that you spend thinking of me, I'm the happiest person alive.

Games

When will we stop these idiot games of cat and mouse and finally come clean about it all? I'm sick of constantly trying to figure you out. Why not make it simple and ourselves and just ask? Why is it that I can tell you things that I would nev dream of tellinng my friends, but I cannot admit to you that you are the reason I want to wake up in the morning or my biggest inspiration? Why can I not tell you that we are jet right for each other, and every moment. That I don't tell you, it literally rips my heart out? Or that the thought of you being with anyone else sends me in a state of panic? Why can't I just admit to you once for all that I love you...?

Sixbillionsecrets 1

I can feel the mania starting again. It is making its way through my viens once more. Sometimes I can feel my mind slipping, and all I want to do is make a gash across my wrist. I want to see my blood on the floor and laugh at the sight of it, but before I can even think of the blade, my mind starts to think of your eyes. Those beautiful pale blue eyes, and all I can think of is how beautifully pure and innocent those eyes are, and somehow my mind doesn't feel like its in shit anymore. How is it that when I am with you, none of my past even matters? It all just disappears into the night, and I can laugh with you like I was made to be with you? Why is it that no matter how awkward our conversations get, we can always find our way back to something completely normal? Why is it that I am sitting here writing this instead of doing something productive?