Will I ever get control of my life? Will I always be shoved back and pushed around by those I trust?

‎Because if I hadn't been so afraid of everyone else, I might have told Hannah that someone cared. And Hannah might still be alive.

That's what I love about poetry. The more abstract, the better. The stuff where you're not sure what the poet's talking about. You may have an idea, but you can't be sure. Not a hundred percent. Each word, specifically chosen, could have a million different meanings.

I hate not knowing what to believe anymore. I hate not knowing what's real.

I wanted to tell you everything. And that hurt because some things were too scary. Some things even I didn’t understand. How could I tell someone—someone I was really talking to for the first time—everything I was thinking? I couldn’t. It was too soon.

Why would anyone say this stuff about themselves on the Internet? It's crazy!

We didn't get that chance because I was afraid. Afraid I had no chance with you.