Letters Hold Thoughts Unfolded.

[I really am done
with putting on a show]

I've nothing positive to give
but my will to give others
brighter days than my own
everyone deserves to live their own life
without the constant criticism of everyone else

She's another dismissed human being...
[told in narrative of girl]

Dear friend,
I write a letter for you
everytime that you make me cry
just thinking of you,
ironically, makes me happy.
Even though I know if I ever told you the truth, you'd see the strange and dissapointing girl everyone close to me, now see me as. When I'm done with writing your letters, I shove them under my bed in a shoebox with all the rest. Funny, not even my family acknowledges my existence anymore. I'm there as a figment...perhaps my only existence is for their occasional amusement. I wouldn't know; I'm never told that I'm all wrong. Just given stares with their eyes glazed over... they're 'sorry' for me. Not in need of pity. But love. The 'magic' we dance around and belittle potential for so easily. We just give it all away. How would I know? I don't know what it is... I'm defective, have you heard? Hello, I'm glad you'll never read this and wonder, "Boy, has she gone off her rocker this time..." Huh, but I'm not... you keep me living, looking to another day; Even though I picture myself dead and gone and you not giving a *bunny*. You just happen to understand me at my most detached state...and I can be free again. And that can't be something wrong or weird or disgusting. I hope you're proud of yourself. I'm in love with you. And it's all your fault.
Sincerely,
........