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Why don't you love me   You could at least pretend  Please call me   Please  Just tell me that you liked me too 
When im gone to you ever wish i was there? Do you even notice that im gone? Do you see my empty seat and think where is she? Do you miss my jokes? Or the things I talk about?
Moonlight trickling in my room Lighting it up, making it shine Making me look up with weary eyes To see a beautiful full moon   Creaping down my bunkbed steps
Kicked in the stomach But standing straight  Smile on  But inside tears escape    Bruno mars and backseat singing  windows rolled down  highway swerving   
There is a voice in the back of my skull that screams for release, That can only be found in a razor blade, or between your lips. If I pick and prod at my flesh enough I realize soon enough I can't feel anything,
Lonley Why do you not look at me? I am here. I am real. The possibility of friendship is right in front of you, but I'm the only one putting in effort. All the friends you claim to have do not truly care.
Where are you ?  I hear you but I don't see you i listen closely  I hear the passion from within your voice 
Laying alone once again, picturing a better time. Listening to a familiar note. Reading a repedative word. The same over and over and over. When will it change? 
The sunlight is gone and the threatning shadow of rain makes the earth seem unknown with its strange glow again. The warm breeze twirls quickly. The plants-too green- hasten their dance,
She’s wide awake as her lover sleeps only concentrated upon the dreams and thoughts wondering through her lover’s subconscious mind.
In this darkness I fall
     Jr.High. Through the halls, head held high, making fun of kids of many types. Just for fun? Just for kicks? I couldn't really tell you why.   The laughs I got, for rude comments I made,
It's a cold dark lonley night I'm looking outside my window. Everything is still. No sound, no movement, eveything is gray as thoughts run through my head. 
Have you ever felt lonely? The only being made fun of or looked at in a classroom? Well welcome to reality that`s what lifes about   My life as Chanaya
(poems go here) Sick Days
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