I follow a blog
Where people submit:
Letters to Charlie,
A boy from a book.
Who isn't real,
Who is a wallflower.It breaks my heart
That so many people
Send this made up boy
So many problems
Because real life won't listen.I follow a blog
Where people submit:
Questions that ask
How sexuality works
To this young girl
Who is still learning herself.It breaks my heart
That so many people
Have to ask a student
What they should teachers
Because real life won't listen.I follow a blog
Where people submit:
The art they've created
To a blog where
It's all anonymous
And no loved ones will know.It breaks my heart
That so many people
Hide their amazing art,
Like its a dirty secret.
Because real life won't listen.I follow these blogs,
And each one breaks my heart.
I wish I could teach the world
How to love them like these blogs do.
YOU ARE READING
Butterflies come flying out [poetry]
PoetryThe words of a teenage girl with too many emotions and no other form of catharsis.