A girl that I know is brighter then the rest
She has golden highlights dyed into her hair
She's got pale blue eyes that reflect the world
And she's got a gorgeous smile that makes her glow

The girl that I know is quite small
She's around 5'3 which is like nothing at all
She likes to state that This way im closer to hell
But I laugh it off and it's all quite swell

The girl that I know is fairly easy going
She's quiet and sweet and somehow outgoing
She sarcastic, witty and a bit of a flirt
But in all honesty she is secretly hurt

She's got a few boys that she strings along for fun
But that's all platonic to all except one
It was her little secret, at least for awhile
Until her best friend told everyone within a mile

In a split instant the whole country knew
People knew her business and her reputation grew
People began to think that she was surely a ****
But you dont know her at all so keep your mouth shut

Her best friends a hypocrite and we all knew that well
Without realizing it, she had made her life hell
Telling her boyfriend everything is good and all
But there comes a certain point where there is a line to draw

This girl that I knew had no more secrets, none at all
As she told me this, her tears fell like a waterfall
how ******* dare she!
she's your best friend I exclaim
How could she do this, Has she no shame

The girl that I know isint like the stories
She's overreacts about little things and gets quite worried
she's bright, brave and fairly clever
She's a black belt, a sensei, she's so much better
She complains about her three buttons while everyone else has four  
And she talks about her life and about the simple things she adores
So how is it that people still call her a *****?

We go to the gym and then eat pizza instead
We watch barbie movies and fall asleep in her bed
We talk about life on an old rooftop
While eating buckets of ice cream till we have to stop

I know the girl better then she knows herself
I know the stories better then anyone else
I know the scars hidden deep within her eyes
And I know and have seen the tears that she has cried

So how can the world be so cruel?
When all that's she's done is just gone to school
She talked and became friends with some guys
So how can people create such lies?

All people think its their right to judge
But what right does it give you to hold such a grudge?
You say its just a joke everyone spread rumors
Let's me hear you say it again, when its your turn as the loser
So tell me then, is that to your humor?     .

"I don't care if it's a joke in your eyes." She said with no hesitancy and a certain sharpness in her voice. Her softness faded and boldness came over. Her stare was razor sharp as though she could **** someone but it was also disciplined more than impulsive. It wasn't rage, it was fire; fierce and courageous that l hadn't ever seen her dress in. She looked intimidating but strong. She looked daunting but fearless. "There is a limit to jokes, I do joke around and it is fun to a certain point. But there are words and actions I will not tolerate and that is my personal choice. My boundary. I don't care if I love you or if you are my friend. I don't care if you are the closest person to me or the farthest. I will not let your actions or words compromise on my self respect anymore. It is my self value that I stand by. Your actions, words do not define me. The way you treat me does not bring down my worth and neither does it matter to me anymore. I am not a reflection of who you treat me. I know who I am now, I know what I stand by. I am not afraid of losing you or afraid to be seen as a person who overreacts" She stepped in closer, sending a shiver down their spine. "This is my self respect, value, and boundary - accept it or leave"

monistical transcendents from complex
  algorithms in dancing neosouls
    growing formations of unaware
      intelligent abstract patterns as truth
   conceals the ever evolving dimension of
            another time space feeling
      lumbering freely among the stars

                   Judging by apparence it falls
unnaturally easy for the unconcerned to
         numb the emotions into whatever
    green is at hand as an underexposed
line overreacts as it hurls itself into a verbal
                            echo ...

Your non-words echoing softly in the silence.
What am I so afraid of?
I think I know what I want
but have no idea of what I truly need,
which confuses the dream infatuation that I have with the idea of being with you.
The stories I've heard about how it would feel to be under you;
the fear of being possessed by
insecurity
while enveloped in your arms.
Cornered by the reflection of our bodies
while trapped in an incantation of shared breath,
whispering loudly to the primal beat of my pumping veins;
I see past infinity.
As my thoughts become quieted,
they are swallowed by my subconscious.
In this moment,
I become truly lost.
The ‘I’ that over-thinks and overreacts is coaxed into submission
and swept under the rug;
atop which we make love.

Times like this,
you plug in your earphones,
you appreciate all the music.
without any warmth.
your presence is winter.
giving you chills,
sending shivers.
moderation is a fault.
the silence overreacts;
when you feel it
it gives you that boost,
to support your downed ego
as you travel,
you're an outcast.
you knew it well
as you think of tomorrow's task.
when suffering climaxed,
volumes are at peak.
puff your airways
until you're weak.

Sitting alone listening to music
Typing it out getting it out of my system
Eyes judgement full of disgust
Not buying or believing the bs
I'm doing my own not worried about yours
Mindin my business not trying to get caught
You talk about everyone else nothing going on with you
Drama and trouble all that's important is the truth
Not trying to prove myself I've already done it
Venting but I've said too much maybe not enough
Feeling the change within not going back
Already know don't tell me how to act
Im doing good your the one who overreacts

Science class is boring. People are loud. I'm hungry. I'm tired. I'm depressed. My numbers have not been good when I rate my emotions at therapy. My mom overreacts to everything and does not listen to my side of the story like always. She acted like it was my fault that I got half credit on a late group assignment. Technical difficulties deleted everything and we turned it in a month late after redoing it. Half credit was generous.
I haven't been able to talk to Sage much recently... I miss him. He is right there and I hug and kiss him daily, but I miss him. I almost had time on Tuesday, but my mom took that away. I feel alone. I've thought recently that I'm ugly. I don't feel good about myself. I promised not to try again or hurt myself, so I found another way... I haven't eaten well recently, meaning I won't eat for a while and then I will binge on junk food... It makes my stomach hurt, but I don't care.
Anyway, I almost had time, and my mom said yes at first, but then I told her that school was good and she asked about the project. Then she said no. I was trying to explain. I may have raised my voice a little, but then she started screaming at me not to yell. I wasn't. Cell phones have microphones. And mine is broken, so it just made it worse. Everything piled up at once and I started to cry. He left before my mom got there and I just sat and cried. A police woman came just to ask if I was okay. I told her I was fine, just a lot of stress and my mom pulled up. I got in the car and she instantly badgered me about why I was talking to the police and when I told her why, she to,d me I was throwing a temper tantrum like a three year old. I told her I wasn't and then her catch phrase came out. I swear, she says it to me every day. "You're full of ****, Kaydee."
I wasn't having a good week to begin with, my numbers were bad all week. Since I only go to treatment once a week now, I keep track of my own numbers until I get back. I seriously contemplated trying again or harming again, but I didn't. I was proud, and thankful that I have at least five people to support me, my family not included. They go back and forth. Everything I do is wrong, I'm full of ****, I'm a liar, and then they love me and only care about helping me.
Do they even understand how difficult this is? We're they ever sent into treatment? Are they living my life with my teachers and my views and disorders? My parents have depression and have attempted, but they still don't get it. If they did, they wouldn't be doing this.

I just want to be let go. I was doing fine until this started. Therapy made it worse. I harmed after I went into therapy. I was pain-sober before then.

My therapy place called me again today. I don't know why they called me and not my mom, but whatever. I don't even care. Normally music helps with things like this but I'm shying away from my normal taste... I've been listening to more Death Cab For Cutie and Regina Spektor. All is well, though. Just softer than the screaming and explicit lyrics I'm used to. More meaningful and poetic, I think.

Well, I think I'll be done. Writing this helped, but I am still on the verge of tears. I need to be done.

   Sincerely, Kagami.

She acts like my friend
Until I mess up
Which is completely normal
I mess up sometimes
She doesn't get it
She overreacts
Doesn't talk to me
Doesn't want to work it out
Shes ruthless
Tries to keep me from happiness
Which is him
And them
And that
Shes wise
But not understanding
Shes nice
But not concerned
Shes funny
But doesn't joke around
Shes great
But believes that too much
Shes above
But not as much as she thinks
Shes amazing
But is shocking in all ways
Shes my mother
But she didn't choose me

For there are many things I love about her that I guess she doesn't know
Love the way she laughs, and the way she talks in a high note
I just enjoy teasing her, because she overreacts and she's so pikon
Never knew that one day, she would be in one of my poems
Kidnapped my heart, without her noticing that she did
Yawning at this moment, it's 4:07 and I can't sleep.

Beautiful is so overused, this is not how I would describe her
Ravishing and responsible, these words describe her better
Independent. Who wouldn't fall for such a girl?
Obviously, she is what a real man would be looking for
Now things have changed, it's her eyes that I can't look at
Everyday is about her name. She's all I am thinking about
So just stare at the beginning, maybe then her name you'll find out.

(maybe this time it will feel different, different)
(maybe this time it will go different, different)
my last few rounds//i've come back out
more worse for wear than before i began
(maybe this time i will feel different, cherished)
(maybe this time i won't feel like such an object)
i know that you said//what you liked in bed
and what you spoke as their hands caressed
sounds of your voice crying and moaning
whispering all those little things to me
"you're so beautiful. you're so ****
"you are exactly the kind that i need
"you're so pretty. i love your shape
"and how warm you feel underneath me
"you are so perfect. you're desirable
"i love every thing about'cha
"you feel so good. you turn me on
"your skin is so soft and inside is so warm
i can't think//with all these things
filling up the space in my head
(maybe this time i will feel different, different)
(maybe this time it will go different, different)
i wasn't ready for being intimate
i can tell the way i still think about it
mess up her skin, her muscle, her bone
make her every part undesirable
twist and rend and crush and scratch
until she's not worth looking at
she let it happen then, so now i decay
thinking all of this every single day
i hate her i hate her god i hate her so much
cut her out of me until the face in the mirror is mine
and not hers
i hate how she sounds, how she looks, how she feels
her flesh is mine and it will be hell
dont look please dont look no touching or grabbing
dont hold or squeeze or bite or hug
i hate the curves
i hate your words
i hate everything that makes this life hers
cut her and cut her and tear all of the skin
so it heals and its ugly and not worth such sin
keep your lust for her, hold it, *******
dont ask for pictures or phonecalls or words
nothing to do with those who had her
she's a body. a nice one. what a horrible thing
i hate her i hate her i wish she hadn't been so weak
every thought is so hard to have im sorry i even feel this way and it was never your fault. never your bad. i let it happen to her. she let it happen, even through the shudders and whimpers and cringing away, she let it happen. weak. weak and small and easy to overpower. easy to pull out from her hiding place. easy to coax out from behind that locked door.
she's easy, too easy. too wanting, too...
needy.
doesn't want to feel like a thing. like your thing.
like a body to boast of
stop reachingg
stop lookig
stop seing
stop feeling
aroused
stop it stop it stop it stop it stop
no more
she's a body
her body
her *******, her thighs, her face and freckles
her hair
her voice
god, her voice
delicate
feminine
sweet, pleasant
sing ourself hoarse and only then are we content
lower in pitch
scratches the throat
an ugly noise something masculine from a feminine source
abominate
you're all straight
you wouldn't love the same if i were to change
(well within your right)
im not worth the time unless as her
her body
her words
her tone
all her
i almost want to be a man, i want to see
how many will leave
i read about love for a soul no matter what form
its a lie its a lie its a lie no one is like that
at least not for me
only just when it's for her
as long as she's stagnant
so you can touch and hold and grab and use and cherish
her body her everything its all her its always her it will never quite be
me
i dont want to **** her, or maybe im scared to really hurt the one thing that every lover has ever loved of me
it's not bad that they don't want a man, or a thing, or an it
no surgery scars or anything else
they can like what they like
i just take it personally
its her soft heart, and skin, and soul
everything will be her always always always always
daughter girl woman lady princess female always her
touch and grab and hold
maybe this time it'll feel different
and that i wont feel like all i am is her
all that's worth it is her
groom and touch up her body because, because they don't like how it is
can't stand to cut all the hair can't stand to see myself especially down where it all is
i hate it i hate her
she's everything
we're in pieces
i know you're different, at least a little
this time will be -
you met me with my words first
my creations
my mind
my humor
"what's your favorite constellation? i like orion"
you knew all of that before you knew her face
you knew me, you know me at least a little
heard me speak with her voice, always just a bit wrong but never too wrong, right? never actually bad enough to change
heard us for the first time and told us
she read it and she was!
i read it and i was so... happy. for her. by her
with her.
she's extra and excited and needy now
i allow just a bit more than before i knew you were in l..e, too
maybe i overreact, she. us. we.
it overreacts a lot. (s)he does. overthink
this is the only way i could get it out fully
out of my head and her head
such ugliness, such rawness and softness and fear
(i hate it so much)
it's ugly. it's true, at least a little
the song i make will be prettier
you'll hear it soon
i l..e you
im scared