The noises the city make are comparable to music

The powerful melody guides you down the streets

And you hurry after it, afraid to lose it

You rush through the crowd of people

But find that your attempts are feeble

For what you hear

Are simply everything, and everyone near

You realize that the magic of exploring the city

Is simply the freedom it provides you

You can see everything

And you can be anyone

Exploring the city is something everyone should do

To anyone who reads this!!

I need advice, and suggestions. Does this sound like an ode? Or do I have it completely wrong?

You have a stern shell

But those close to you can always tell

That you have a huge heart

Some would even call you a piece of art

Dear dad,

Happy fathers day! I know we haven't been on the same page lately, but I want you to know how much I appreciate you. You took my siblings and I in. You dealt with our breakdowns and screams of pain with love and love only. Love was a foreign concept for us then, but you gained our trust and opened our hearts. You witnessed my struggles firsthand, and you guided me on how to cope with them. I know you will never cease to love me, regardless of how many times we fight, so I need you to know that it's mutual. I will love you regardless of what is thrown at us. Because dad, you are worth it. My family, is worth it.

Love,

Kendall

I sabotage my own happiness

and allow myself to sink further

into the already full sea of regrets

I complain that nobody understands

when really, I speak gibberish

and expect them to dissect my meaningless words

I pray to god (that is when I believe in him of course)

and I ask him to guide me

but I don't really try to listen

I focus on the negative

and blame others

when really, it's on me

I really do try to be the best version of myself

I try to fight the depression, and the pain

but sometimes, my flaws shine through

and I become the failure I, myself, made

My phone buzzes from beside me as I relax on my unmade bed doing absolutely nothing. I sigh and pick it up. It is a text, from the one and only Brad Connet, my ex. I close my eyes, trying to pretend the sudden ache in my heart is nonexistent. But it isn't, we used to be in love, and now I can't even look him in the eyes.

Brad: Hey, can we talk? Please?

I get up off my bed and begin to pace my room.

What if I ignore him?

Would he come over?

Should I just reply that I'm busy?

Nah, he wouldn't buy it.

Shit.

I let out a growl and stop pacing in front of my mirror. I examine myself. My curls are a lopsided mess, and my loungewear aren't much different. My expression tells the entire story I'm sure. My face is all scrunched up and my eyes are glassy looking, which, in regards to me doesn't mean I'm about to cry, it means I'm about to beat the shit out of someone.

So yeah, I'm pissed.

Why? Whelp, let's start with the fact that Brad cheated on me, with my fucking sister. Now let's approach the fact that Brad only touched my sister because we had just had a little fight. Ok, maybe not a little one, but still. He should not be able to decide where I apply to college right? Right! But obviously Brad disagrees. So as soon as we both begrudgingly decide to take a break, he decides to hook up with my sister. My sister! And then he has the audacity to act offended at my anger!

I take a deep breath and close my eyes. I count to ten and open them, already feeling much calmer. I shuffle my way back to bed and collapse on it. I stare up at the ceiling and go over my options. I could either ignore him, or go hear him out. But listening to his excessive apologies won't change anything. The truth is, I will never be able to look at him the same, and I will never be able to completely trust him ever again. I fell in love with him because of his loyal nature, and now that I know he really isn't all that loyal, I don't know where we stand. Are we screwed as a couple? Or should we try again? Is our connection broken? Is our love broken?

Authors note: Hey, I dunno what exactly this is. I just wanted to write something, so I did. It's not even a story, it may be the beginning of a story, but I won't finish it. I really seem to struggle with following through with my writing. I have several started pieces in my drafts, but I just don't have the time to edit and revise them, so they just sit there, wasting away...

staring at the ceiling

you will your brain to shut off

your mind buzzes with never-ending energy

and you growl in frustration when you realize that it's 1am

you feel the sudden need to cry and scream all at once

you pretend to be clueless as to why sleep alludes you

but deep down you know...

P.S. It really is 1am, and I am bored so yeah. :)

the memories are toxic

they are under lock and key

but sometimes the memories manage to escape

through the eternal cracks in my heart

in those moments the pain comes crashing back

and I seem to turn into the broken girl I used to be

my mind, once peaceful, turns into a battlefield

and I drown in misery, helpless

as the memories I worked so hard to hide

destroy me from the inside

love has the power to build you up

but it can also tear you down

love can be pure and simple

but it can also be toxic and dark

love can either change you for the better

or it can change you for the worse

love can make or break you

just make sure to remember your worth

There is no longer a feeling of helplessness

and I have stopped feeling the pain

I feel as if I am able to breath again

the tears no longer flow

and the panic has disappeared

I am living a life without fear

I am able to just live

without the heaviness of worry

I used to be afraid, but now, I can say gladly

I am in a good place

If I could do anything

If I could go anywhere

I would soar away

To a place far from here

I would leave all of my worries behind

I would just close my eyes

And let go

I would let go of my past

I would let go of my pain

I would buy a jet

And soar away

Far from this place

If I could do anything

If I could go anywhere

I would soar away

Away from my own head

Away from the anxiety and expectations

I would just jump out of the jet

I would close my eyes

And I would feel free

I would be free

My therapist recently challenged me to try free writing, which apparently means to just write what comes out without overthinking. This is what came out in the five minutes I dedicated to his request lol. It's not much but it's what I've got for now.

My grandparents. They are conservative, Fox 'news' watching, trump supporting, LGBTQIA+ hating, people. I love them, I do, I can't blame them for the way they were raised, but still, ignorance does not excuse racism. People are raised with toxic ideas all the time, and once they are adults, it is up to them to educate themselves.

My school. I go to a predominately white school, with a Native American as my mascot, I am used to pretty ignorant people, I hear the N-word and F-word thrown around like it's nothing, and the teachers do nothing about it. My classmates have said blatantly racist things to me, and I always, and I mean always, feel that I am in the wrong for taking it seriously as if I am the problem.

My point? I have to watch my mouth in front of my grandparents, I can't even discuss race unless I am prepared for them to spin it into some kind of debate. I also have to watch my mouth at my own school. Even in front of my all-white friends. For some odd reason, I feel invalid for talking about race in front of my own friends! I feel guilty for censoring a big part of me. I am a victim of racism all the time, and yet, if I talked to my grandparents about it, they would explain it away. If I talked to my friends about it, they would quickly change the subject. Even now I feel someone is going to defend them, I don't know, it's f*cked up.