Grief Written

It's 1:58 AM. And I can tell you with absolute honesty at 7:00 PM I wanted to die. Around 8:00 PM I had locked myself in the bathroom and everyone had stopped trying. There were no knocks. I sat with my back against the door and my head in my hands. When I looked up I saw a razor sitting on the edge of the bathtub looking like a right answer. At 8:40 I sat in a towel on the phone with a father who lives across the country. He told me "I'm not mad about the car, don't cry." Little did he know I was crying because I felt like dying and all he saw was a car that needed repaired not his little girl with an empty stare. At 8:45 I put the razor under the counter and instead took a shower. I still wanted to die, but I didn't want it to be so messy. At 8:50 I got out the shower got dressed looked in the mirror, and told myself "it's for the best." But at 9:30 I was still here. I sat in my room solving math problems when I couldn&

What can be said for a girl who wants to save the world when she can't even save herself?

" And I want you to keep running. I want you to get up and finish the race. You have to finish." Run, run as fast as you can. But here I am wondering if I can even stand. Collapsed I'm wondering if I'm just best seen as collateral damage.  I run, mostly from my problems. But they're catching and I'm falling.  They're the flames and I'm the trail of gaseolone, it is inevitable that I'm going to burn up.  The soles of my shoes resemble the soul beneath my burning and itching skin. Worn down, cracked, tired. But I get up and run because that's what I do. I run away. From people. My problems. Myself. I know it is inevitable that they'll catch but I keep running like the world keeps turning despite the possibility that a burning meteor could come and destroy us all. "You run away." "You run too." "But you run faster." And I wonder why you want me to keep running, why

"We save the ones we love by lying to them."-ten word story

When I was a little girl I had black cowgirl boots with purple thread. I loved them. It think it must've been the purple thread, when I was a child I was fascinated by the different. I liked things that stood out. I wore them as much as my mother would let me. The purple thread began to fray and fade.  I cried when I couldn't shove my feet into them anymore. My toes ached from the pinched end of shoes too small. I tried to hide it from my mom, I wanted to keep wearing them. I wanted them even though I outgrew them and they caused me pain and discomfort. Life is like that I guess. I miss the little girl with black boots and purple thread. I'm worried about her. I want to protect her. I want to warn her. Pills crushed into dust falling where I walk like pixie dust, a braided necklace, things worse than the scraped knees she's accustomed to stops her from coming closer.  I want to tell her to look away from me. But I can still see her black boots with purple thread and her

Stay with them for a long time. Learn their insecurities, help them battle their fears. Lull them into a sense of security. Be there on the other end when the have a nightmare, have your arms open when they need somewhere to fall, force them to look at you when they feel like the tears wont ever stop, and when they cry and tell you they want to die tell them the earth just wouldn't be the same without them. Dream up a future for you and them, paint it with pretty words and promises. And when they think they're yours, when they think they've finally found someone who loves them more, flip a U-turn. Change plans. Slash the painting. They wont say anything because they want what's best for you, what you want. They won't stop you from achieving your dreams, because they've realized they love you more. Congratulations, you've learned how to break a heart.

You have pretty words that make a girl fall in love with you, the sad thing is all they are is words.

"There's a difference between someone slipping through your fingers and you dropping them. Remember that curling your fingers into a defiant fist prevents both."

I ran to the tree and scrambled up it even though I was in a skirt. "What are you doing?" You asked. I'm chasing the sky, I thought. But smiling I simply replied, "I'm climbing" You climbed into the tree as well and nudged me with a knowing smile, "climb higher." I laughed and admitted that I couldn't. Oh but I wanted to. I wanted to climb higher and higher until the ground disappeared. I wanted to chase the sky and wear the stars. I wanted to vanish and become a constellation, but your smile brought me back to the tree. You jumped and I stayed. It was only three feet but it felt like the world that separated us. "Jump, I'll catch you." "You'll drop me." "Never." I traced the bark of the tree softly and thought of my favorite bedtime story. "There once was a tree, and she loved a little boy very, very much -even more than she loved herself." I wonder now like I wondered then if I was the tree or t