It's raining and so beautiful and I can't concentrate on anything else but the way it falls sweetly on the ground. I can't help but think how graceful the world looks when it cries. There is a pang of jealousy felt deep within my heart because I long to cry the way world does. I long to relieve myself. There is pain lodged in place that I can't speak of and embarressed to write about. There is shame for this year that I can not express. There is spite and bitterness for doing the things I have done. There is unspoken remorse that holds itself behind my tongue.

I hurt more than I know. This is the only place I'll ever say it. I need it out of me or some very important part of me will die. And I just turned 17. I cannot admit to the hurt or everything will crumble. Because then I'll have to rethink all the things that I have built thus far this year. And my heart it swells. There is pain that makes me want to cry. There is stuttering when I am nervous. There is constant repitition of the same thought, like a montra played itself over in my mind. There is pain more than I know.

So I'm jealous. I'm very jealous that the world can cry and people think it's beautiful. I'm jealous because it can do what I cannot. And I am human. And I'm broken, Oh God, how I'm broken.

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