My friend died,
today.
Cut her wrists ,
And, flew,
Away.


Life to big a burden,
to bare.
Like she didn't even,
care.


Gone to Heaven,
on wings,
of blood.
To her death she,
sings.


Of a love forever,
lost.
To the cruel hands
it tossed.


NOTE: this is a poem based soley off of my imagination. I do NOT need idiots running around thinking that one of my friends died.

Why can't I stop thinking about him? I like someone else. Not him. He's nice and all but not the material of crushes, even mine. I can't like him. My God that sounds supiciously like denial. I can't like him, no not him. It's just because I'm lonely, desperate and my other crush is fading. My Goddess why does that sound like excuses. Frail paper excuses, even to my ears. No it can't be. It's not really, I just started thinking about him this way because he sits a across from me in Health class. And I look at him because if I look at Chris way in the back, he makes faces and then I laugh. But I can't. I just need something to dream to when I tried to stop thinking about the other him. Whom I think is cute, but the other-- No! This is not happening. This is impossible. Just because we share similar interests and are quite a like. We're both adopted, both have been teased, both are on Elftown. That doesn't mean I like him. No it doesn't. I'm just over reacting. Why do all my reasons ring like excuses in my ears? Why? Why me? And yet I wonder did I not bring this apon myself. But all those who I daydreamed about I did not like like them. They were only daydreams. Daydreams and nothing more. All thoughts of them came on my mind's command not my heart's. Why should he be different? Maybe he will be different. In fourth grade a rumor currculated that he liked me. I did not like him then. Nor do I now. Goddess that sounds like denial. God I wish he liked me now. Goddess I did not think that. God is this all pretend? Goddess is this just reality? God is this a pack of lies? Goddess is this the truth?

Are they blind?
Can they not see?

Or are they that unkind?
They walk away from me.

And towards her.
Whose body is her cage.

They are bitches, curs.
I screamed in helpless rage.

Today Sarah Barron thought I was a Witch. She saw me reading a fictional book by Anne Bishop. And it was about witches or more accurately Wiccans because it refers quite often to the Wiccan creed (An' it harm none, do what you will). She told me she didn't want me reading that book if I thought I was a Witch. If I thought I was a Witch. She said that she would burn the book. This made Anna mad because it was her book. I told Sarah that the book was fiction. She asks if I was a Witch again. I told her no that I was not a Witch and I'm not, but I'm thinking about being a Wiccan. And even if I was a Wiccan I could've told her that I was not a Witch and still not be lying. Because a Witch is someone who casts spells, a Wicca or Wicce is someone who believes in a God and Goddess. Wiccans also view the ancient pagan gods and goddesses as facets of the God and Goddess. I doubt that Sarah Barron would understand the very subtle difference. I also think that she would claim that Wiccans worshipped the Devil or maybe not. I don't think she would take it that far. Someone else might though. My arfuement for worshipping the Devil is that you can't worship something that doesn't exist.