Praying she’d see a falling star

She asked you to get on top and clawed at your back, she was clawing out the stab wounds, taking away memories of everyone that has ever hurt you. Every person you were forced to turn your back on. Your best friend in the fifth grade. The pretty girl who broke you heart and finally, yourself.

The things I write about.

But if you catch hold of me in the dead middle of the night and cut me open, you will find a little girl that is questioning it all. Do I see you in the desperation of an addict? In the screams of a quite child?

Next time someone tells you you’ve changed

Tell them it was the death of a grandparent that taught you grief. The loss of a friends that taught you pain. A song that showed you love. A book that gave you hope. An experience that shattered it. A person that fixed it. Tell them that war showed you the outcome of hatred and cheap men caused you to question reality.