Fail. Hurt. Care. Sick. Kiss. Love. Free. Kill

Fail. Fail. Fail. Fail. Fail. Fail. Fail. Fail.

Hurt. Hurt. Hurt. Hurt. Hurt. Hurt. Hurt.

Care. Care. Care. Care. Care. Care.

Sick. Sick. Sick. Sick. Sick. Sick.

Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.

Love. Love. Love.

Free. Free.

Kill.

I don't even know...

It has become pure practice to cut apart my soul,
to slice myself to pieces with every word I say-
slowly whittling myself away.


I was not always this way.


Expectations, and fears.
Creations of reasons that I should not be here. 
____________________________________________________________


I want to quit. 


I don't see the point.


15 years, never been loved, never been kissed. Never been.


15 years, I've been there. It's as if I never was.


15 years, and what do I have to show for it? Teen angst, an unedited novel, and some shitty poems?


My heart has been frozen. And whenever I find someone to thaw it, I fuck it up. Erick, Ethan, Travis, and now this one. This Boy, he certainly is something different...but he's going to end up just like all the rest. 


Dakota. No, I've most certainly never met anyone like you before. Crazy cliche right there. I could say that I really like him, and I want him to be mine. But how can I say that when I hardly know him? If we were being technical I could say I've hung out with him twice... but if you asked me how much I actually talked to him during those two times, the answer would be so low that it would probably just make you cry, so I dare not say it. But despite that, I still like him. Pathetic, huh? It's probably not the smartest decision, especially when I know nothing can come from it. Well that may be a lie, but probably not. I'm not the kind of girl guys fall for, so that is where my biggest problem is... but in all honesty it's the talking thing. I would love to hangout with him again, and I feel like I could honestly try. But no chance he's go for that train wreck again... and what if he did, would I be capable of talking to him, treating him like everyone else. When in reality he is so much more than everyone else... 


Dakota...


God damnit....I'm so screwed...


Love,


Baylee Jean

Dear Alexander James Miller,

Your flower is dying. Sorry, I couldn't keep it alive forever. I guess you didn't really expect me to, did you.
'Will you take this flower to have and to hold, until it dies?"
Of course.
It will die, and so will I.
And just like you didn't expect me to keep the flower alive,
I don't expect you to cry.

Sisterly Love,
Baylee Jean