Love, Lilly.

#LoveSimon Entry.

Dear World,
You are merely a figment of reality. You say you won't, but you do and I'm not able to forgive that. You have done things, countless cruel acts that overpower things you've done good. There are many that you've failed, and I am one of them. Who I am now, you have done nothing to shape me into the girl I've become. Surely, your dependencies have made me think of things, like why I shouldn't let you or others, that believe in the horribly defined sense of security that you impact society on, berate me- us.

You are unforgiving. I love both; I love all. Why should we not accept those who long to live with you, longing for your warmth and compassion? But you spare none, and those who believe you do, believe falsely, but it is not their faults. Who I am now- I believe and trust in those who fight rightly for our destinies and your wrongful laws forbid us from becoming a peaceful nation. We are broken down and tired, living life as if it were a merry-go-round, named falsely for it is not merry.

I am a fighter and I will fight for our rights. There are others you've done wrong by, cruel world, and I will not stand by and let it happen. We will rise, once and for all.

There are times when I sit alone at night and wonder what I've done to deserve this. I've been on this road for too long, and I'm hearing music that is not mine and I long for a note that will chime to let me know my actions are forgiven. The sun doesn't shine and the color is gray, drained from the once-blue sky that clouded with purple mist whenever it neared the sunset. I'm talking loud, but I am not saying much, for both the words I mutter and the actions I speak in the absence of my voice are quietest at best.

But I'm trying. Dear world, I'm trying. I know it is not much but my hope falters dearly, even if I may seem so ever strong and tough, it is not enough. Even mighty warriors fade at some point and I fear it is my turn. I want your forgiveness. I want to live; I want to see the world once again, bright and sparked. The world I once knew was never actually what it seemed, and I was one of those false believers.

How gullible.

The words I taint on paper, inky and cataclysmic, they match my feelings. I've spilled more emotions than ink on my paper and it's unbelievable how much time I spent into begging for your forgiveness. It will not come, I know that, but I only wished that everybody had a voice. When I pass, I want everybody- if not for me, then for them- to live.

This is who I am.

--- Love, Lilly. . .