i focus on the pain, the only thing that's real.

At fourteen I was only a child,

Sheltered, no idea what the real world was like.

I was only a girl with blonde streaks in my hair,

Who wanted to love and be loved in returned.

I only knew love as what my parents had,

A broken relationship built on false trust and one pleasing the greater.

So I did just that, built a relationship on lies,

He’d tell me he loved me, while kissing another girl,

And I would love him back, because he needed love,

“He doesn’t have a great life, his dad is abusive,

His mom doesn’t love him; you’re the only person who will.

No one else will understand him like you do, because

You’re almost in the same shoes” I’d tell myself this,

Thinking that it was true; I was naïve.

When he left me for another girl, I thought I was heartbroken.

I remember sitting beside my window, crying.

My sister walked in, hearing me bawl, told me I’m worth more.

I didn’t believe her. I was so obsessed,

Obsessed with the idea that someone actually loved me

Even though it was a lie all along.

But this wasn’t when my heart first broke,

My heart didn’t shatter, therefore it never broke.

Even after hospitals, the stains of red down my arm,

Abuse from a parent, and the loss of innocence in a car,

In which I never consented too.

But my heart was strong, still not broken.

My heart never broke until my best friend,

Whom I cared about so much,

Told me she had the same red stains.

I cried and cried and cried over it.

I never wanted her to feel this pain,

It solved a temporary problem of panic, yes;

But left stripes down your arms for decades.

This broke my heart for years,

The memory of a cafeteria in my head,

Pointing to her leg, then my arm,

It broke my heart permanently.

I’d cry every time I’d do it,

Thinking of her words:

“Don’t ever do that again, I love you so much.”

Repeating, over and over, in my clouded mind.

My life became a cycle of making everyone else happy,

I left myself last, because their happiness mattered more.

I changed though, for the worse.

I became selfish, tired of taking care of everyone.

I broke off, wanting to live for myself,

Hurting the world around me in the process.

I lost my best friends, and the trust of family.

I would lie to get my own way;

I’d get caught up in these lies daily.

But I didn’t feel bad, I didn’t care anymore.

When I met him, things changed.

I cared about someone again,

I didn’t know why either.

I hated getting attached then, but I did.

Risking it once again, not knowing what could happen

Was it worth it?

I don’t know for sure yet.

But I have now come to a point in my life,

Where I don’t need to lie,

Where I am happy,

Where I can still help people and not grow tired

Of having to be there.

Life has gotten better for me;

This is a reflection of influential points in my life.

It has been three years since the beginning of

What I call my ‘real’ life,

And I shall continue, become who I want to be.

I want to be brave, and strong,

I want to be able to hold up my friends,

And make them feel loved, the way I wanted for years.