Idk anymore

To Do List

1. Play with fairies

2. Grow angel wings

3. Braid the hair of a mermaid

4. Fly to the moon

5. Ride a unicorn

6. Fall in love

A dreamer that's what she was

I still remember reading the words that plucked at the sore parts of my heart, tearing off raw bites of sadness. How could she be so selfish?
 How pathetic that she actually thought she could go through with it and leave a note.
 I couldn’t relate to the reality of actually wanting to die until a certain age when I caught myself cutting into lined paper with red ink. The pen digging at my hand until my calluses grew tired from exposure.

How pathetic that I actually thought I could go through with it too, but soon the sun will swallow the only earth we’ll ever have and maybe then the pain will stop. 

They say that for every birth 14 people have already died.

They say that for the 7 billion people alive, 98 billion people have already died.

How many of the 98 billion souls are still remembered and how many have become another speck of dust lying on the book shelf with nothing left but to be wiped away by a piece of cloth.

And to think you were almost an added collection of dust,

But you don’t need Jesus until your there.

Until you realize your entire existence was a waste, but maybe that’s not the point, because heroes leave scars on our hearts. 

She was a hero but now she’s a scar and I tried to taste the stars we bottled up but I threw them away and tried to focus on my thoughts. 
“My thoughts are stars I can’t fathom into constellations.”  

I sat on the swings waiting for you while the wind blew and the branching shadows rearranged themselves on my skin. You never came that day… and that’s when I knew.

I ran down the street dreading the next few steps that lead to your front door.
 My hands trembled as I tried to unlock the door. Forcing myself to call your name I saw you lying on your bed. 

Your body stretched across the bed sheets that were now smothered in red stains. The only thing in your hand was an empty bottle and a shitty note.

I never knew death personally until it came calling for you… lucky for me there was no answer.  

The side effect of dying is begging for your life.

They say suicide has a domino effect, but I keep wobbling back and forth wondering which way I’m going to fall.

Football games, movies, and hanging out with friends suddenly tasted bitter coming out of my mouth. I can’t seem to find the girl who used to climb trees and swing on swings.  
 I think part of her died when I found you that day.

I told you heroes leave scars. 

Out of the 7 billion people alive today if we each remembered 14 lives maybe the 98 billion people who died wouldn’t feel like such a waste, because maybe dying would finally feel okay.

I tell myself I won’t cry but that moment has traced its way into my blood stream cutting through my veins like kite strings,

but I’m not afraid of scissors because I don’t believe in soul mates.

The truth is my kite flew away the day I saw my mom cry and I couldn’t feel a thing.

Numbness: the emotion I feel when I kiss or see my mom cry.

But the worst part of it all is that when I found you lying on your bed the kitchen sink was still on.

To: Nelson

A little note for Mr. Nelson, (since I'm not very good at small talk either)

If you knew what this class meant to me, I think you'd have more faith in me.

If you knew how much I loved going to class, I think you'd be braver to share your thoughts in class.

If you knew how much time I spent on blogging, you would be more anxious to share your videos.

so please,

STOP!

Stop worrying that no one will like the video because it's too serious.. 
because I like it!

Stop saying that "we probably don't even care?" because I FREAKING do!

Stop worrying over that one kid who puts in his headphones during class.   
HE'S STUPID.

Stop being afraid of being too passionate about writing. That's how you create future poets, authors, and artists.

We all have insecurities but I'm telling you creative writing shouldn't be one.

This class means more to me than you'll ever know.

Sincerely, Grace Kelly

Irrational Questions

• Can you breathe out of your nose and your mouth at the same time?
• In that song “She’ll be coming around the mountain when she comes,” who is she and why is she coming around the mountain?
• Why do people say things like “My head hurts so bad it’s not even funny?” or “I’m so tired it’s not even funny?” well yeah why would that be funny in the first place?
• Why did Yanki doodle name the feather in his hat macaroni?
• Why do we say “bless you” after someone sneezes?
• Who was the first person to look at a cow and say “hmm..? Yeah ok I think I’ll squeeze these dangly things here and drink whatever comes out of it.”
• Why is it that your whole life your parents tell you not to take candy from strangers, but on Halloween they encourage it?
• Have you ever wondered how an author would describe you in a book?
• Why is it that most people tend to put more effort into their wedding then their actual marriage?
• If Sunday is the holy day for rest why do we have to wake up early for church?
• Why is there Canadian bacon on Hawaiian pizza?
• Is it even possible to scream at the top of your lungs?
• What does the T in T-shirt even mean?
• What does O K actually mean?
• Why is kissing so freaking WEIRD?
• Why can’t girls put on mascara with their mouths closed?
• Why doesn’t Tarzan have a beard?
• How can you hear yourself think?
• Why do you “fall” in love?
• You’d think since so many of us share similar insecurities they wouldn’t be considered insecurities?  
• Why do I have so many questions?

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CAPS LOCK CRACKS ME UP BECAUSE IM SITTING IN MY ROOM WITH A BLANK FACE WHILE TYPING THIS BUT AS YOU'RE READING IT, IT SOUNDS LIKE IM SHOUTING! BUT IM NOT! IM JUST TYPING!

ashes and wine

DEAR SOUL,

WHY ARE YOU SO FRAGILE?
THEY CAN SEE THROUGH YOUR DISGUISE

WHY ARE YOU UNEVEN?
WHY DO YOU ACCEPT THEIR LIES?

WHEN THE SHATTERING NOISES
BREAK THROUGH OUR MINDS

DO WE RUN, OR
SHOULD WE STAY AN FIGHT

I CURSE AND CURSE BUT NO ONE SEEMS TO

CARE, FOR GOD IS LISTENING AND HE WILL

HEAR MY PRAYERS…

BUT TOO OFTEN I HEAR OF DREAMS ENDING IN SUICIDE

LIKE ASHES AND WINE

LIKE ASHES AND WINE

EVERYONE CLAIMS THEIR DEATH,

BUT NOT EVERYONE CLAIMS THEIR TIME

smother my BONES

P.s I love you

To the boy I’m too afraid to talk to,

        

        I sit and class and try to listen as the teacher talks, but I can’t because I’m too distracted by you. It’s funny because I hardly know you… I guess that’s kind of creepy because you consume my daily thoughts. This letter isn’t just to you. It’s also to that boy who never said he was sorry. I forgave and forgot because I thought I “loved you” but the truth is I never did. I NEVER DID. This letter is to the boy who stole my heart in the seventh grade. I’ll probably never get over you. This letter is to my dad who never apologized for what he did. Who never hugged his twelve year old daughter and said “I love you.” This letter is for my long forgotten brother... SCREW YOU for leaving without saying goodbye. This letter is for the neighbor boy my sisters made me marry when I was only 2. This letter is for my future husband… “love ya babe.”

         Now back to the boy I’m too afraid to talk to. I can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to know you? I hate myself for being too scared. Why am I so FREAKING scared to talk to you? Maybe it has to do with that perfect smile and those chocolate brown eyes. Maybe it’s because I saw you sit next to that lonely girl at lunch and I think I about died. Maybe it’s because I have never really talked to you… but I’ve had a conversation with you about a hundred times in my head. 

         This letter is for the perfect boy I read about in story books. This letter is for that boy I never kissed but wish I did. This letter is for that completely RANDOM boy who stole my first kiss. This letter is for all the boys I continue to run away from because my parents taught me that love doesn’t exist. This letter is for the boy who has my heart but doesn’t know it, who takes it to dances, on dates, and even football games. This letter is for you and only you, but you’ll never know it because I’m too afraid to even talk to you.

Sincerely, Grace