I wish I wasn’t crying too hard to write. I wish the tears weren’t obstructing my vision of the page; I wish the blurriness in my eyes and in my mind would go away.

I can feel a pit at the base of my stomach…why? Why won’t it go away? I’m heavy, like a rock in the sea, I’m sinking.

I wish these memories wouldn’t get in the way of today. I wish I could be like the other girls, and run around looking for boys and clothes. I wish there could be a day that goes by where I don’t cry myself to sleep.

I wish I wasn’t crying too hard to write. I wish I could fill up this page with beautiful word-pictures to show you a sunset, or even just a lonely little girl. I wish I could paint for you these memories, little by little, until they’re all out of me, and safely onto paper. But would you listen?

I wish I could pour out all the words unsaid, the tears left unshed. I wish I could show you what it is to live trapped inside my mind.

I wish I wasn’t crying to hard to write.
Cause if I wasn’t, I’d show you my heart.