Thank you, dear, for opening my eyes. Helping me see that inner beauty apparently isn't enough. The society concetrates so much on outer beauty that there are hardly any really beautiful people at all. Why is beauty based on physical appearance alone ? Appearance isn't what it's about. It's about mind, spirit, soul and heart. There are so many people who have hearts like no other, souls like no other, but no one sees it because they're not beautiful. No one is perfect, no one will ever be perfect. This is because standards have become so high. If people could look at inner beauty instead of outer beauty alone, we would be much happier. Falling truly, deeply, and madly in love wouldn't be so rare and almost impossible to do. Thank you, dear, for helping me see that it doesn't matter how much inner beauty lies within me. Helping me realize that I will never be good enough for you.

You mean everything to me. You're my heart, my soul. You'll be the death of me, it's true. What will kill me is my love for you. My neverending love. Believe me, it's just that. It will drive me to insanity, drive me into the ground. I'll eat dirt, I will. I'LL EAT DIRT. But I won't care. What a way to go, what a way to go. My love will be the death of me. But, die happy, I will. Love; such a great thing to waste and throw into the garbage. It will be the death of me, the death of me. ...Happily and willingly dying for you. Throwing myself into the ground for you. I'm covered in dirt, I'm rotting away. My love has taken the life of me. I'm covered in dirt, I'm rotting away. ...Happily and willingly rotting away. For you, my love. Who else ? My love has taken the life of me. But you were behind it all along. Because my love is for you, neverending, eternal. My love for you will remain, even here... In my wonderful, new abode. Neverending, eternal, as I said. My love has been the death of me. But to die loving you, makes it all the more worth it.

You never meant to hurt me, I know. So you ripped me apart instead, you tore my very soul to bits. Shattered my heart to pieces. Leaving me aching, and breathless. Is this what it is to love? To give somone so many feelings, feelings you could never give to another, give someone a part of you no one has ever seen, ALL of you - for that matter - , Only for them to rip and shred it from existance ? To tear every bit of you from their heart ? To leave you alone, struggling for something you though you once had. Love is reciprocal. Or is it ? It never seems that way, does it ? You give someone every bit of you -your mind, your body, your spirit, your soul -, but they never return those feelings. You're left alone and cold in the dark. Breaking more by the second, because you know that you're meant to be that way. You never meant to hurt me, I know. So, you shot me down instead. You're love is like a loaded gun to my head. Seeing it, knowing it, feeling it gives me the greatest fear. Yet, I am not afraid. Kill me, dear. Do it. Come on, you know you want to. I am not afraid. Because the feeling I get when I'm near you -be it reciprocal or not- is worth a thousand deaths. Love me, dear. I know it's not easy. Is it easier to kill ? No matter what you say, I know you will. Love me, dear. It's as simple as that. The feeling is like a fucking heart attack. Love me, dear. But kill me on the way. Because this feeling is unbearable - loving you this way.

I listened to the stories, and knew I had none
I was faced with a question. Somewhat of a difficult question..."Are you an only child ? Are you the oldest ? Are you the middle child ? Are you the youngest ?" We were to split into groups, I put myself with the group of the oldest. I decided I was no longer going to consider myself an only child. Because the truth is, I have a sister. Calling myself an only child would be like saying she never existed. When in the groups, we were asked to write the advantages and disandvantadges of being in whatever group we were. I sat in silence, because I didn't know. I listened to the stories, and knew I had none. I listened to them complain about their younger siblings, and I thought...You don't know how lucky you are to have someone to share those memories with. How lucky you are to be able to say "My sister said this, my brother did that." Because one day, something will happen to them, and no matter how much you say you hate them, you will miss them. And you will regret everything you ever said or did to them. I sat in the floor, with my head bowed. And I cried. People asked me what was wrong, and, of course, I said nothing. I just listened to the stories, knowing I had none.

She writes with a little red pen, symbolizing her life. Blood, hate, pain. She stops, thinks, stares. She pulls out a big pink marker, and writes about her life. Full of love and happiness. And then she realizes...She pulls out a black marker. The one with which she used to draw stitches upon her skin. And writes about her love. There is no stopping the words from spilling onto the paper from her soul. Compassion, empathy, passion, desire, pining, loving, losing, wanting, needing, crying, wishing, hoping, and finally...Dying. She sees an old friend. One with which she used to spend much of her time. One who helped vent her rage and pain. She slides this friend across her wrist, and for once in her life...She is numb. She cannot feel. With tears in her eyes, she lies on the ground, silently. Silence. There is only silence. Nothing more. Nothing less. While inside, she is screaming. The reality is slowing, gradually. Everything disappears. Her pain, her love, her passion.

...Her life...

I'm screaming your name, because it's all I've been hearing.
You're in my thoughts, my dreams,
even my nightmares, it seems.
I'm screaming your name, because it's bottled inside me.
I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU.
Can you say it, as I do ?

Say you love me, you love me.
And mean it whole heartedly, please.
I'm begging, no lies, look, I'm on my knees.
Say it truthfully, no lies just to please me.
I want an honest reaction, because this isn't a game.
Don't lie or deny, to reject is the same.

Just hold me, kiss me, and know I belong to you.
You have my heart, you have it completely.
I'll hold it out to you, for all to see.
I love you, dear. And I will not apologize.
There's no need for it, you see.
Because I'm proud to be in love with you, but.. Do you love me ?

Stupid stupid supid. I'm so stupid. I don't understand ! BLAHHHRRRGGHHH !!!!! I'm bored. So very bored. -Going INSANE- Blah, blah, blah. o_O' Purrdy. Wait, what's purrdy ? I don't remember. I forgot. Pretty colors, maybe ? Pretty color on the computer screen, yes. Pretty pretty lime green that I like very muchly. Aww, sadness on the television. Hotness in the room. Very hot. Sweating ! Perspiration ! I'M MELTING !!!! Oscar Mayer weiners on t.v. And cute little kiddies who can't sing. And whistling. I see Mountain Dew, and Dr. Pepper everywhere. And, I'm thirsty. That's no good. I see Spongebob, and Carebears, and a coloring book page that I colored of a little girl blowing bubbles...Very cute. I see faeries on a unicorn. Evanescence, Good Charlotte, Atreyu. Sign on my closet door that says MSI. And I picture of me on a little kid's toy motorcycle. Caution tape over my closet door, because it's scary in there. Lots of monkeys, and Hot Topic Bags. Glasses, clickers, food. Paper, empty c.d. cases. Markers. Camera. Books. 1, 2 books. There are more, but not visible. All Stephen King, and one Anne Rice. Calendar with picture of me and my bestest friend at age 8. Happy Bunny, Jack Skellington. Spongebob boom box, sexy stereo with blue lights. T.v. Spongebob blankie, tye-die blankie. Prettyful pink and white striped blankies. Mouse with cool red lights, computer with blue and orange lights. Big, stupid desk that I don't like. Cool computer desk, that I like. Big computer moniter, bigger than the t.v. WOOSH ! Bunk bed. Cool thing over the light, purple sphere. Very dark, very hot. Very messy. A dresser with lots of writings on it. Stupid sayings, that I wrote when I was young, immature, and naiive. Spongebob pillows, stuffed Spongebob's, stuffed Patrick, Spongebob pinata. Fan, that doesn't give off much air. Blue, fuzzy guitar. Sexy pimp hats. Plaid skirt, studded belt, happy bunny shirt. Orange towel. Bunches of c.d's, inside c.d cases. Spongebob house shoes, movies. Half - eaten poptart. Big black spice - like shoes. Hummm, more boredome. And I shall go now. Because it is late, late, late. And I need to go beddy bye.

I think I will start wearing a bag over my head. Maybe paste a picture of a beautiful woman, icon, on the front. Will you look at me then ? Will you look past my not so beautiful appearance, and look deeper to see what's inside me ? How much love I have to offer ? See the inner beauty I contain ? Yes, I sound arrogant. But is it really arrogant when you know it's true ? Can you see me now. Am I beautiful now ?

I AM ANGRY. Why am I angry... I think I am angry at myself; for being so imperfect. For hating myself so, for beating myself up when I shouldn't. For wanting to cry, for wanting to scream, for wanting to die. I am angry because I am stupid. I give myself too much credit, I'm not worth it. I think too much of myself, I'm not worth it. I hate myself, I despise myself. I've said it far too many times. I'm like a little girl who needs her mommy, but her mommy's not there. So she screams. ...And she never stops. She screams, and screams, and screams. For the rest of her life; but no one can hear her, because she won't let them. She hides; behind anything she can find. A fake smile, laughter, friends. But she cannot hide her fear of being alone. She cries, and bandages cannot fix a cut as deep as this. She cries, she screams. ...And she never stops. She wants her mommy, but cannot find her. She runs; searching desperately. Through fog, through deep woods; no where. So she falls to the ground and cries, only this time... ...She stops. And she never screams again. Because she finds her mommy, somewhere she would never have thought she would be. But she's there because she wants to be. This poor little girl. She wanted to die, only so she could finally be with her.

I'm trapped in a box with locks and chains. No matter how I try, I can't escape. I've created a tiny torture chamber for myself. I'm being ripped apart, but no one can tell. I hide myself behind a plastic smile. I laugh, pretending everything's alright. But I cry at night, trapped in my little box again. Wondering where I will be when it all ends. The scars can be seen, but no one opens their eyes...They just laugh in my face when they see me cry. So I hide behind my plastic smile, pretending I'm O.K. for a while. I hold my tears, and stifle my screams. Despite my smiles, you'll still forget me. So I hide in my box, and let myself die. So, despite my smiles, you can see me cry.

Yes, this is private. Only for me to see. Who knows, perhaps I'll show it to her one day. But for now this is to stop the tears from flowing, though I'm not quite sure it will work as well as I'm hoping. I'll start by stating a quote that I found on a banner a while back. "Is it possible to love someone so much, you live to hear them breathe ?" Because that's the way I'm feeling. In love; oh, so in love. When I talk to this girl, it's like my heart stops. I'm afraid to speak, in fear of sounding idiotic. I'm afraid to move, in fear of looking idiotic. Now, I'm usually not the type to try to impress people. But with her, it's different. Just a simple thought of her makes my heart burn with desire, makes my eyes burn with hot tears crawling to the surface, aching to break free. It hurts more, because now, I know how she feels. She loves me, this I know. But I'm afraid never in the way that I love her now. I'm at a loss of words, there are no words deep enough to describe my love for her. Call me crazy, but I think this is the furthest I've ever fallen. I dream about her, I think about her constantly. I cry over her. Yea, yea, yea. I'm only fifteen, too young to understand love, right ? NO - There is no other way to describe this feeling. It is not only desire, pining, lust. Yes, I want her, but even more so - I need her. I feel I need her to breathe, to merely walk a step forward. My lungs feel as if they will cave in at this moment. My heart feels as if it will burst from my chest, beating rapidly, high speed, non-stop. No, there aren't any tears. Only because they can't escape. This is a much too strong a feeling for tears. Yes, it hurts so much I can't cry. I stare blankly, waiting for the tears to come. But they don't, not knowing that they feel good to me. I'm shaking, I'm aching. OH NO - Soon I'll be breaking. Breaking more than I am now. I am talking to this girl now, acting as if nothing is wrong. Not thirty minutes ago were we talking about our feelings toward each other. She knows how much I love her, she knows how much I want to be with her. But does she know how much I need her ? Does she know how much I love to see her smile, how I wish to be the one causing the smiles ? My heart is breaking, it just can't take the pressure. But I need these feelings to keep my heart beating. Is it strange to enjoy the things that hurt you ? I hate it, I love it, I need it, I can't live without it. It's driving me mad, yet keeping me sane. Driving me into the ground, yet keeping me on my feet. Puncturing me severly, yet completing me completely.

I want to be there, every waking moment, making sure she's alright. I want to be there, at all times, keeping her safe, holding her tight.Is it wrong that I want to protect her ? To make her nightmares go away. To make the bad times seem not so bad. To make the good times seem greater than ever. She's been hurt before, as have we all. I want to make it so she never has to hurt again. Tears will be far from the surface, there will only be laughter and smiles. Tears will be locked away in some magical container, for she will no longer need them. Her screaming will fade away, only laughter and smiles. Blood red vision, turns to bright-ness. Sunny-days; happiness. I am overflowing with love to give her. My only problem is, she doesn't accept. She wishes to stay in her blood-drenched world, darkness overpowering her will to be happy. No laughter, no smiles. Only screaming and crying. I wish to take it all away, but how ? Things aren't as easy as they are in my dreams. I get scared. How do I help when I'm overpowered by fear ? How do I help her when she won't allow it ? How do I transform her blood-stained face back into its once beautiful form ? How can I turn her world back into the land of happiness in which she once lived... I can save myself, by saving her.

You're like fucking poison. When I see you I get sick. I mean this not to be harsh, nor cruel. Simply to be honest. I'm sick because when I see you, my heart drops into my stomach. I get weak in the knees. I'm a nervous wreck. Is it wrong of me to want to impress you ? I can't look you in the eye, because I know you can see my face. Is it wrong of me to want you to love me ? You're like fucking poison. I mean this not to be brutal, nor to bring you down. Simply to be true to you, and myself as well. When I see you, I'm sick. Sick with undying love. Love that will never be broken, nor rendered.
Is it strange that I want to impress you ? Is it wrong that I love you, and wish for love in return ? You're like fucking poison. But, kill me, it will not. This, my beautiful poison, keeps me alive. This, my beautiful poison, keeps me breathing; keeps my hopes high. This...My beautiful poison.

I hate this feeling. I go back and forth, from room to room. I smoke a million cigarettes, until I fall asleep. I say I'm gonna read a book, but never do. I eat everything. I'm on the internet for hours doing absolutely nothing. [I write things that don't make sense.] I bounce around, jump around, run, hop, skip - WHATEVER ! I make *layouts* like the dork I am. I put on clothes, just to look at them. I click everything on my computer just to see what's inside. I go through about a GA-JILLION channels on the T.V., to find there's absolutely nothing on. I play my keyboard, play with my camera. I talk to myself about nothing, really. I promise myself I'll take a shower, but don't. I walk aimlessly around the house, trying to find SOMETHING to do. I wait in anticipation for the big event tomorrow afternoon. [Band concert]. I can't stand this feeling. -BOREDOME ! 

-Strange ? I think not...

Stitch up my heart, where it's broken inside. Piece it back together, before my body dies.

-Chorus-
I'll die waiting for your gentle touch. I'll hate myself for wanting you so much. I'll fade away, watching the fire in your eyes. Not caring that you did nothing to keep me alive.
-Ends-

Stitch up my heart with your needle and thread. Hello, Mr. Broken Heart. I seem to be dead.

-Chorus-
I'll die waiting for your gentle touch. I'll hate myself for wanting you so much. I'll fade away, watching the fire in your eyes. Not caring that you did nothing to keep me alive.
-Ends-

-Scream-
Hurry, doctor. Before I go insane. Before the breaking of my heart incinerates my brain.

-By me !

*Little Sister*  

I didn’t know you long,
But I loved you all the same.
And it broke my little heart
When you left us that day.

I didn’t cry,
For I was too young to understand.
Now I long for the sister I once had.

Everyday I wonder,
How it would be if you were here.
I would love you even more.
Sister, dear.

I’ve dreamed of teaching you
Everything I knew.
How to ride a bike,
And how to tie your shoes.

I wish to tell stories…
“My sister and I did this, that.”
I long for the memories.
We hadn’t the chance to have.

No one knew what was wrong.
Cancer…Is what’s in my mind.
And I’ve been searching all these years,
For something I’ll never find.

Someone to fill the void.
The void you left behind.
A sister whom I will love.
…But never find.

I love you Jainie.
And I miss you more each day.
All I can say is “If only.
If only you could come back to me.”


<3
August 19, 1994-August 25, 1994

Well,today was no good.Ashley and Carrie were walking around acting like THEY were going out.They wouldn't even talk to us.Ashley couldn't even look me in the eye.When she first got to school in the morning,she started crying...And Carrie started "Comforting" her.It's like she wanted pity.Why the fuck does SHE need pity.If she didn't want it to happen,she shouldn't have done it.And she was acting like she was pissed off at me the whole day! I didn't do a god damn thing. I sat in my room crying over her.And SHE needs pity! BULLSHIT! I don't know what's up...But I hate it.This is something I wrote yesterday after everything happened:

Something’s wrong with me, isn’t there? I’m impossible to love. I feel as if there is no hope for me. I can never hold on to a relationship, my heart always get broken in the end. I’m so emotional, I just can’t take it. I shouldn’t be complaining. I’m not perfect. I just desperately feel the need to be needed. To be wanted. To be loved. I have a much too fragile heart. The smallest thing can break it. The smallest things make me feel l like putting a bullet through my head. I’m too weak, I can’t take this. It’s just too hard. I want someone to hold me, and tell me everything’s alright. I want someone to tell me they love me, and actually stay by my side. I want to know that I have someone who will always be there to catch me when I fall. To make every waking moment feel like a paradise. Like there is nothing in the world that can faze me. I want to know that the small things I do can make them smile. It’s not only the need to be wanted. It’s the need to know that I can help. I feel as if I can’t do anything for anyone. As if everything I say is nonsense. As if everything I do is an idiocy. I feel completely…Useless.