Note: This poem was inspired by the song Broken by Lifehouse.

The broken voices, they whisper,

drowning out the sound.

They all strive to remind me,

that you are not around.

The simple answers evade me.

They will not let me know.

Who it is that I am now

if I truly let you go?

How is it that I’m breathing

when I can’t even feel at all?

If you want to hear a girls heart break
Say you love her and walk away.
You'll hear the cracking, you'll see her shake
But shell still tell you she's ok.

If you want to hear her fall apart,
To hear her sobbing silently
It isn't hard to rip out her heart.
Now just sit and watch her bleed.
 

I wasn't planning to post twice this week. Then I found out that the Great Storyteller, Brian Jacques, is dead.
The Redwall books lured me into reading and hooked me forever. Oh, and writing. The first novel I started was a Redwall ripoff. I never finished it, but until this week I cherished the thought of sending him a copy of my first published book and a letter to tell him it was all his fault I started writing in the first place and - thanking him O so much.
So, without further ado,
Thank you, Mr. Jacques. Oh, so much.

   The next day, exactly a fortnight from when she had come to the manor, she left it, wearing the same blue and green dress. One difference was that Aunt Eldira let her get up later than she had for her first journey. Their goodbye was not exactly affectionate, but it was not as cold as their greeting two weeks ago. "Recent circumstances," as Lady Eldira had put it, allowed for some empathy between the two. Eldira was mourning the loss of a friend, and, in a different way, so was Annica. She'd cried herself to sleep the night before over Alton's shocking behavior.

**Before I start I want to ask that you please, please don't make your comments into a debate. Just keep it friendly and respectful. Etc.**

In regular school, this feeling I'm having right now was very familiar. Sweating palms, pounding heartbeat, a kind of rush in the ears that after a few minutes I realize is the sound of my own heavy breathing. This happens whenever I am a combination of scared and impassioned, when I find that I must raise my hand and say, No, this is wrong! And then, class would end and I would turn to writing as my outlet.

 Give me ten seconds to look into your eyes

To see if there is anything left I recognize

Have six months become meaningless?

Everything I thought I knew is suddenly worthless

I’m wearying of this fatal little dance

Because a phone can be a deadly weapon in your hands

Is there a problem with the network?

I don’t want to believe you just said that

God if there is anything good left, I would love to see it now

If you can tell me, I would like to know how

To stand by and watch her slowly kill herself

The world is so cold,
so empty, so bare,
so bitter and gray
without sunny skies fair

But those skies have long gone,
they left along with you,
all the joy you brought to me
has now vanished too

The world is so cold,
like a stone, gone all numb
too dark to see where I'm going
or where I've come from

Where is my sunshine,
where is my light?
where is my heart?
when will my world be right?

It's okay to smile,
It's okay to laugh
even though the ones we love
from this life and world do pass

It's okay to dance
feeling music and joy,
even though we know that death
is something we can't avoid

It's okay to love
and give your heart away,
even though you know it might
be broken to pieces someday

It's okay to grin,
to be happy isn't wrong,
even though the ones we love
from our sides have now gone

Chapter the Sixteenth