I’m not cold-hearted. I’m cautious.
I’ve lived. I’ve learned.
I’ve been broken. I’ve endured.

I was 10.
I went into my parents’ room as I did every morning before school.
My mom was clearly distraught over something while getting ready for work.
I looked at the TV where I expected to see Johnny Mountain reporting the news and instead saw what I thought was movie, no idea that something of that caliber could actually be happening. It was too surreal.
Then I learned. I stopped asking questions. I sat down, eyes glued to the screen.
Eventually I had to get ready for school and go.
Before the bell, we watched victims being wheeled out and people running away from the area on a small portable black & white TV.
Bell rang.
We went to class.
My teacher was a wreck. I had never seen her cry before that day, and she was dealing with a serious illness at the time.
Over the intercom, our principal asked for a moment of silence but could hardly get the words out.
One kid tried to be a smart ass and disturb it. My teacher snapped at him.
I sat towards the back of the room in my assigned seat, desperately trying to stop crying when I realized no other student was. All but the one kid were merely in shock / stunned.
I still remember that entire day. I have no idea what happened the days or weeks post and prior. But I remember everything from that day.
I was 10. I am now 23.
13 years, and it’s as clear to me as if it was happening right now.
I will never forget.
9/11

It’s not the number of days and nights spent together.
It’s the memories from them,
And the part where they suddenly stopped being new and frequent,
But became old and refused to stop replaying in your mind
As you rack your brain trying to find what went wrong.
Where did it turn off…
What could have been done to give you your imaginary
“What could have been.”

What I need is someone to speak up on my behalf. To see or hear… simply know what I’m dealing with and to do something about it, whether I know or not. I need that someone to go out of their way to ensure I don’t hurt. Not to say there’s a lot worse in the world and to suck it up. But to fight for my happiness without a care in the world if it’ll effect their own.

I’m laughing.. but nothing here is funny.

8.7.14

The only two scars that remain are the first and last.
Funny thing is…
I’m the only one that can still see them.

“Don’t say it could be worse like it’s okay it’s not better.”
— M. Newton, 2013

I couldn’t wait to grow up
No more teasing
No more lying
No more being afraid of the dark

Then as I grew up
The teasing turned into bullying
The lies became what I thought was truth
And I always kept a light on

Now I’m grown up
I have learned to laugh at myself first
I refuse to be lied to
And I lie in the still, total darkness of night

But now, my fears are different

I laugh at it all
I lie to myself
And even when there’s light,
I wander in the dark.

I don’t care how inspiring your quote is. If there is a type-o or obvious grammatical error, I will not acknowledge its otherwise would-be brilliance.