The Broken Teen

Some words from The Broken Teen along with some of my own.

I have had a crush on you since sophmore year and thats how i became a broken girl. I was once white and full of goodness and innocence, when you came along. We got to know each other and the sound of one anothers car motors and the way the other wrote y=mx+b. You then promised me forever and i thought you and i would end never. It lasted as long as your average froot by the foot and i was ok, because i knew that someday i would become to old for your company. More often than not, i now feel disoriented and uneasy, but that wont hold me back because i will be different now.

Now socializing gives me anxiety & my dad asks me if i own any cloths in color. But i still love the sound of my mothers laugh and the conversations we had without words. And i could still recognize your car motor in seconds and your beautiful brown eyes still on occasion make me cry. But thank you for being you because it has helped me become me.

I hope you enjoy this Kellie, and enjoy the way i used your words. Keep writing because it is
truly amazing and very heart felt.

Book of Love.

Fear of falling.

falling in love,

and out of love. 

its a terrible thing, love.

but it can't be changed.

and its all written together.

love is like a book,

and everyone will read it,

eventually.

and its great, 

if you are falling in love.

but its horrible,

if you are falling out of love.

Not really Jane Ray.

The songs i don't tell anyone else about.

Kids in Love//Mayday Parade
From the Bottom of my Heart//Mury
Tell Me I'm A Wreck//Every Avenue
Forever and Always//Parachute
Sleep Sweet//Mury
Goodnight Moon//Go Radio
Skinny Love//Birdy
Dance Floor Anthem//Good Charlotte
You Are Gold//The National Parks
Somebody That I Used to Know//Mayday Parade
Coffins//MisterWives
Stressed Out//Twenty One Pilots
Take You Away//The National Parks
Angel With A Shotgun//The Cab
Go to Hell//Go Radio
Aint No Rest For the Wicked// Cage the Elephant
The Great Escape//Boys Like Girls
Somewhere in Neverland//All Time Low
Mockingbird//Eminem
CheaterCheaterBestFriendEater//Never Shout Never
No Surprise//Daughtry
Only Love Can Hurt Like This//Paloma Faith
The Breakup Song//Runner Runner
Endlessly//The Cab
It's Up To You//Walk the Moon
Toxic Valentine//All Time Low
Terrible Things//Mayday Parade

A love of social frenzy.

Our love changed faster than the leaves in the fall and fell faster than them all. With the black seats of your truck they ripped right through my heart. And we watched fireworks in the summer because I loved them, and saw movies that I didn't really want to see. My love for country fell from my heart because you said that wasn't allowed, and you grew to love the band's that I believed were all mine. I grew to know the stories of your home thanks to your mom, and you never opened up like that. The oxygen that we took in turned from being clear to something that we wished we never would have had to see. That changed to me playing country music  because I knew that you would roll your eyes and say that it gives you the hives, and you stating that you hate fireworks because you wanted to give me water works. 

Then you took my heart.
You said it was shit, and ripped it up and took thousands of hits.
We fell from a tree, that love of you and me, and became worse than a social frenzy.

The word CHILDHOOD on a blue ticket.

The word childhood was on a small blue ticket, write about your childhood it said, I don't even know where to start was my reply.
Do I start from the beginning and the stuff that I am told happened but don't actually really remember, or do I start with the best times that run through my head everyday?                          

There's the time I dropped a weight on my thumb in Walmart and lost my finger nail a week later...
Or the time that my older sister and I got locked in the bathroom at our B&B in Oregon...
Oh yeah and one time my dad surprised us and took us to Disneyland...
But I could also tell you about how I cried when we sold our family car because all my siblings moved out and we didn't need that big of a car anymore...
For now that's all I can really share because while they might just be small bits and pieces of what my childhood was like it's kinda hard to tell you all about it.  it's all mine and I have never had to share it before, and it's kinda hard to have to start now.

the guide to me (if you ever wanted to know)

I dance to music that isn't even playing in front of my calculus teachers house on Halloween night, then turn on music and I don't want to dance anymore.
                      So, I keep the music off. 
I wore my hair in two buns to church like I used to and i am going to try and keep my promise to my mom when i say yes i will wear my hair like this more.
                     I can't break another promise.
I watch Wizards of Waverly Place on Netflix and remember the time i watched the premiere of the show while babysitting and locked the mom of the kids i was babysitting out and feel asleep so she had to climb in a window...
                     That was the last time i babysat for them.
I never have a clean room, ever. Cloths are everywhere and my bed is never made,
                     Sorry mom. 
I listen to Every Avenue and The Cab. I listen to other music too but i don't enjoy that as much because its not the same,
                     I just like the other music better.        
My heart is broken i think.
                I don't really know though.
                                     I wish i did.
I write more words in notebooks about my thoughts and feelings than i do about what i am learning in my English class.
             Turns out i don't actually care. 
This is it,
things i do and other stuff that make me, me.
If you ever wanted to know.

Sometimes Fears Come to Life.

Something I always feared happened.

It changed my life and tore down a wall, leaving me to never again be the same. 

An event that never seemed real.

It made my head feel like millions of bees were swarming my head.

Going from thousands of thoughts to none in point three seconds.

Something that I always feared.

It happened, I figured out it's real.

And now I fear it could happen again.

I fear crying into my mothers shoulder for hours on end again, and standing in one of my best friends living room hugging him as we remember lots of good times.

I fear wishing we had taken more pictures, and fear having to go to a friends house when they are never home.

I fear crying in the primary room of a church building and having to say remember when.

I fear the fact that the day this happened to me is so close again.

I fear watching Remember the Titans.

I fear that one small step in the kitchen, and I fear eating a stolen snickers bar.

All of this i fear,

Because I had to find out that it is real.

dead&alive

Nothing seems to go right and the light bulb always seems to go out right after it gets changed.
The leaves never grow back and people are leaving trash in the back of my car.
Its a mess.
One giant mess that makes me feel alive while feeling dead at the same time.                   Little rushes of adrenaline that make me feel like im jumping out of a plane, or seeing someone after a long awaited time.
But i only feel alive for a split second before it all goes back to the feeling of being dead and having people talk to me from 6 feet away.
I feel dead in my messy life as i am brought back to life.

schools are the biggest waste of bricks.

Two stories high and who knows how many square feet, with hundreds of thousands of bricks.  3 gyms and more sports equipment than any high school should ever need. Highest AP test scores in the country with the smallest amount of creativity. And on the first beat of the drum don't forget you have a quiz in first period and that calc test in third. Bricks line the walls staring down the 2500 students watching as they all read spark notes while walking to english. Bricks hidding the sun and the teacher says we can go outside next time, but next time never comes a round cause its cold and you cant take a test outside. More bricks are added as time goes on and you wonder where all the crayons they promissed are, and they say, sorry it just didnt fit in the budget this year. More bricks added and the creativity grows smaller and smaller with every one they add. The kid in the back with stolen bricks in his backpack is just trying to stop the harm thats being done, but he is the one who recieves the most harm. School steals our creativity as they hand us a bubble sheet and number two pencil, and waste thousands of bricks.

feelings of the unknown.

i don't really know if its love,

sometimes it's like watching the sun come up,

sometimes it's like listening for the thunder and watching the lightning.

one day it can be like listening to a sad song but others its like reading a book for the first time and wanting to read it over and over again for the rest of forever.

i feel like it can be ridding a roller coaster 

but also like watching my mother cry.

feeling like the star of taylor swift song then feeling like the only star in the sky.

i don't think it's love because if it were love the feelings wouldn't be unknown. 

Passion Taken Away.

Speaking of  rain and thunder storms brought passion to her eyes.

falling leaves and riding bikes,

but all too soon stops and looks to the wall.

Not wanting to get in the way or disrupt what is going on.

And all too soon when she stop talking

the passion would fade from her eyes and the smile would drop from her face.

And the others didn't even realize that it was their fault,

they were the ones who took the passion from her,

and made her feel like her passion didn't matter at all. 

what makes me human.

I fill my lungs with air hundreds of times every day,
          without even really having to work to do so.
The heart in my body is
           weak,
           tired,
           and exhausted from beating all day
           and falling in love with to many people
           and so many things.
My mom makes me talk about things that I don't want to talk about,
           but I do any way because she likes hearing about my day.
Emotions and feeling are constantly controlling my mood.
            Sadness,
            fear,
            happiness,
            and excitement.
Blood runs through my veins and reminds me of things that bring tears to my eyes.
             Why her?
             What was so bad about earth that you decided to leave?
             How come I can't want more simple things in life?
My heart has a beat that is unlike any other
               and is the beat that I walk to everyday of my life.
Memories roll down my checks as I remember the nights that I wish I could go back to.
               New Years Eve in 9th grade.
               Insidious 3 at 11:30 p.m.
               Remember the Titans, and a friend falling down the stairs.
               A new baby being brought into this world.
               And family being reunited.
My lungs fill with air,
     my heart is a workaholic,
          mothers can being annoying but also the most understanding,
               emotions over power everything,
                    blood has to run to power everything else and,
                         good memories are better than no memories.
While I might not really like it, this is what makes me human. 

Flowers hiding emptiness

I have flowers covering my eyes and behind them are dark pits of emptiness and terror. Blinding the world from seeing into who I truly am and what secrets are hidden farther down in my soul than Alice would have ever been able to find. The rest of the world sees the flowers and beauty while I see the inside of my own being and the terrors that are all mine. 

Different yet the same.

Seniors, all with our own outlooks on life and our own style of living. Walking by each other believing we are all so different, when in reality we really aren't. Outside of the way we look and our style we are all identical.
All struggling to understand calculus and praying that we get higher than a 24 on the ACT.
All wishing for graduation to come faster but not wanting to have to go our separate ways in 10 months.
All seeking to find what we are going to do on Friday night and wanting to go to Homecoming.
All going up the canyon on the weekends and participating in everything cause its going to end sooner than we will admit that we want it to.
All going on college tours and planing senior trips.
All wishing that one certain person would notice us and all saying this is our last after every event we go to.
All getting emails and letters from schools and all staying out later than we know we should.
All finally getting to scream 'SENIOR YEAR' and all stressing to pass classes so we can walk at graduation in May.
All going through the same things at the same time just in different ways.
So  while we are all different in so many ways, we are more alike than we all think.

3.7 seconds

remember your little sisters face as she left for her first day of middle school, and the high pitched screams of excitement that come from your niece when she finally gets to come to your house for the first time in days. remember why you get so full of joy when that one song comes on the radio. remember how protected you feel when you get a hug from your mom when you get home from school, and the joy you always get while being with the people you love.
Don't let the life of living in high school make you forget all the little things that make you happy for 3.7 seconds. Don't go walking down the halls believing that you are just one of the 2,500. Take out your headphones and lift your head up, separate yourself and become extraordinary. remember all the things that bring you joy for 3.7 seconds and turn them into 37,000 seconds.

I never stopped using my crayons.

Crayons coming in a box of 24, perfect and ready for the first day of school as a child. All screaming and crying out to be used and be the chosen color of the sky that day. Wanting to get used and no longer be perfect. This is my favorite part about crayons, being perfect and then after being used once are no longer perfect but have created perfect art.
As children we would create  perfect art and get it put on the fridge and get a gold star. Then we got older and were told that our art had to look a certain way to be perfect, and only certain things made it to the fridge and gold stars were harder to find than shooting stars in the night sky. So for me it wasn't that I lost my crayons or they were taking away, I just stopped showing people that I used them. I never stopped using them.
I still use them and create things on paper that are hidden away under my bed that don't get out to see others very often. Instead of being proud of what I create with my crayons I hide it away and keep it to myself in fear of not getting it put on the fridge.
I still create and dream, not in the same ways as I did when I was a child. I still use crayons and markers just creating different things and seeing the world with a new perspective and putting what I feel onto paper in ways that I never would have thought of as a child.
I never stopped using my crayons.

2100 days

2100 days.
12 years.
4 schools.
2/3 of my life.
Is all coming to an end sooner than I ever thought.
From backpack wars to having to move to a new school.
From my favorite teacher ever to the year I found my best friend in the whole world.
From my first crush to having food thrown at me during lunch.
From getting a locker and using it everyday to discovering One Direction.
From the comunity locker and the ‘‘best country in America'' to finally being a Knight.
From losing someone forever to the last first day of high school and all the rest of the lasts to come.
2100 days coming to an end and everything in life changing in the blink of an eye.
Its almost here and its scary to think of leaving the bubble that has worked as a protector for the last 12 years.
12 years of my life learning as much as one can at my age to be prepared to wonder out into the whirwind of real life.
4 schools where I meet people who changed my life, and helped form me into who I am today.
2/3 of my 17 years of life behind me that prepared me for the 70 years of life ahead of me.
2100 days.
12 years.
4 schools.
2/3 of my life.
All spent creating me.

definitions.

words have definitions creating meaning and purpose.

people just the same have things that define them and make them who they are. 

but also alike words can have more than one meaning, and people the same can have more than one thing that defines them. 

The Hats Side.

You remember the Cat in the Hat and the tricks and amazing things the hat could do, and all the unforgettable memories of Dr. Seuss.
The Mad Hatter from Alice in Wonderland and the fact that his hat is almost twice his body size.
Indiana Jones and his many adventures that were all done while wearing his famous tan fedora.
Harry Potters sorting hat that determined your social status at Hogwarts for the next few years, and pretty much your whole life.
Abraham Lincoln and the significance of his lanky figure along with his top hat just adding to the height.
Michael Jackson had his white shimmery glove, but also a coal black fedora to go along with it in almost every one of his shows.
Hats, all around with different stories to tell.
We always look at the person wearing the hat and wonder why they are wearing a hat that day or what significance that hat has, but we never look at the hat.
Where has it been?
Who has it seen?
Where did it come from?
What is the hats story?
While the person could be wearing the hat for many different reasons stop and look at the hat instead of the person.
Is it worn and torn, showing that it has been worn a lot and is very loved by the user?
Does it look brand new and is getting out to see the world for its first time ever?
Has it been passed down, is it grandpas hat that he gave you and now you cherish because he is gone, or is it the hat that smells like home and reminds you of your dad?
Look for the story that the hat has to tell because a lot of the time it will have a different story than the person wearing it, and it will open up and be more willing to share than the person wearing it, all you have to do is look and listen.
So next time you see someone wearing a hat, don't look at the person, look at the hat.

This is me.

I am me.

 I am my thoughts, and dreams, my ideas, and my life long hopes.

 I enjoy being alone and all to myself, when I only have to worry about my thoughts and can be the true person I am, the one no one else could ever truly know or even imagine knowing. 

When I am engulfed in myself I become lost. 

I am searching all the parts of my mind that are still mysterious to the knowledge that I have of my own being, I am discovering new things about myself that are terrifying.

 I am me when I am with my friends but only the me that they want me to be.

 The one who always has a smile on her face and is always ready for the next adventure.

 This may be me but not the true me.

 Being out in nature and enjoying gazing at stars for hours on end and becoming one with the scent of the world, that is me.

 Always listening to the one song everyone else skips, and watching the rain drops slowly slide down the window, that is me.

 Wanting to examine the whole world, and make discoveries that will change human life, that is me.                           
The me that I wish could be shown to all the world, but is trapped inside with fear.

 Fear of losing myself or becoming controlled by the monsters of the world.

 The true me will always be in my mind, heart, and soul searching for more of myself, but forever keeping it inside.

 Keeping it secret to the world.

 This is me.