Dubbleyoo-Tee-Eff

All is still. And even with the general chatter That comes with being in pubic... It is quiet. All I can hear is the beat Of a heart still in the process Of mending itself. All I can see is an angel Approaching me alongside her twin. I can`t breathe. I can`t think. I can`t speak. Who is this girl? And why does she have such an Unusual effect on me? I have to know her. I have to be with her. Is this love? ...If so, I like it.

You were all I had, And you knew it. But you didn`t care. You never cared about anyone Or anything. That is, except yourself. You claim to know love, But it was meerly a schoolgirl`s crush Gone horribly wrong. You caim to know pain, But causing it doesn`t count. You claim to know depression, Yet it`s never driven you to The therapist`s couch. You know nothing. You feel nothing. You understand nothing. You are a heartless shell of a human. You are the prime example Of a Nobody.

Welcome to my life. Please, take a seat. Can I get you anything? Hot chocolate? Pocky? A muffin? Oh, nothing? If you insist. You see, I pride myself in being a good hostess...it`s just the way I was raised. Blame my father. Always a gentleman. Even though I`m not a guy, his chivalry has seemed to rub off on me... Oh, how rude of me. Allow me to introduce myself. Jackie`s the name. Not Jacqueline. The birth certificate clearly specifies that my first name is just "Jackie." That`s a very common misconception, that my name is Jacqueline. Some of my friends call me that when they feel like pissing me off. Oh, fowl language doesn`t offend you, d

She was gone. My therapist, my savior, my light, my everything. Gone. I was young. I was scared. I was depressed. I was alone. I was weak. I was silent. I was no longer naive. I was no longer a little girl. I was no longer safe in "our own little world." Because "our little world" was crumbling. "Our little world" was now two much smaller worlds. And an old photograph was all I had left of "our little world." And it wasn`t enough to fulfill my needs. These scars I bear, Although almost invisible And hidden by my over-sized jeans Are constant reminders of what I lost. The pocket knife was my way Of filling that hole she le