How is it, a child could feel so out of place in the building that was suppose to be home?
How is it, they can sit night after night pulling a razor across their skin and not feel a thing?
And how is it, people can’t see the light leave their smiles? Or how they always walk with their head down because the weight of who they are is threatening to push the last life from their souls into the ground? Or how they don’t laugh anymore?
How is it, you believe “they just aren’t hungry” and that the marks on their wrists are from “the cat”?
Are you fucking blind? Or are you just playing dumb?
Because, how the hell do you miss the fact that you’re KILLING your own child? No- it’s not just laziness. No- it’s not just experimenting. No- it’s not for attention.
Maybe you never got to know them. Maybe you don’t care to either. And that’s sad as hell.
Weren’t you the ones who taught us to be unique and to dare to be different? Well that’s funny because now instead of promoting individually you’re punishing us for flaws in chemistry, mental illnesses, and our sexuality. When in reality that’s not our choice, because TRUST ME, if we could change it, most of us would.
You treat us like we are diseased but refuse to help us find a cure. You see the problem, and ignore it. And that’s incredibly sad.
So guess what?
Stop having double fucking standards. Stop teaching us one thing and then doing another,
You fucking hypocrites.
This is how you lose her.
You lose her when you forget to remember the little things that mean the world to her: the sincerity in a stranger’s voice during a trip to the grocery, the delight of finding something lost or forgotten like a sticker from when she was five, the selflessness of a child giving a part of his meal to another, the scent of new books in the store, the surprise short but honest notes she tucks in her journal and others you could only see if you look closely.
You must remember when she forgets.
You lose her when you don’t notice that she notices everything about you: your use of the proper punctuation that tells her continuation rather than finality, your silence when you’re about to ask a question but you think anything you’re about to say to her would be silly, your mindless humming when it is too quiet, your handwriting when you sign your name in blank sheets of paper, your muted laughter when you are trying to be polite, and more and more of what you are, which you don’t even know about yourself, because she pays attention.
She remembers when you forget.
You lose her for every second you make her feel less and less of the beauty that she is. When you make her feel that she is replaceable. She wants to feel cherished. When you make her feel that you are fleeting. She wants you to stay. When you make her feel inadequate. She wants to know that she is enough and she does not need to change for you, nor for anyone else because she is she and she is beautiful, kind and good.
You must learn her.
You must know the reason why she is silent. You must trace her weakest spots. You must write to her. You must remind her that you are there. You must know how long it takes for her to give up. You must be there to hold her when she is about to.
You must love her because many have tried and failed. And she wants to know that she is worthy to be loved, that she is worthy to be kept.
And, this is how you keep her.”