She knows.
She found my notebook full of poems and now she knows everything.
Airianna told me I need help. I told her I know I do, but I don't really want it.
I guess I should tell you who this Airianna person is. She's my friend, and I decided to go to school today. I brought my big green notebook with me, the one full of gory drawings of me and suicidal poems. Most of the things in there, however, are about someone dying, or being alone, or sadness. That's how she summed it up, anyways.
Airianna saw me writing in it during English and wanted to know what it was, since we weren't supposed to be taking notes, or even writing at all. And I never take unnecessary notes. So, during my Choir time, she got in my locker and read it. Every single poem slash song.

She also read the thing in the very back - it was from the beginning of the summer, talking about how great it would be to marry so and so, and then recently, I crossed it out and wrote Amy's name instead.

Yeah, back to that.
I found this journal full of my old and stupid poetry from 5th grade, and since it had all that in the front, I figured it would be safe to use for something else entirely.
So, I started writing something in the back of it. There's a lot of space in there, I had no concerns about if I was going to run out of space or not.
I wrote about a dream I had, once upon a time, when I could sleep.
This dream of mine was about Amy Lee and I being...together, you know? It was very vivid, and my dad found it and specifically told me to tone down my writing a LOT. He said if it was a book in the library, Mom would never let me read it.
I took a lot of time writing what I did, and I didn't want the story to end there. I decided I liked writing graphic stuff like this, so I continued. The story is now even more vivid, now that my mind is sure about its sexuality.

Airianna has no clue about that part of me, thank God.

"Go to your parents for help," she says.
Yeah, sure, so they can send me to an asylum without even giving me another glance, not even a chance?
"Hey, that rhymes."
-evil glare-
"No, not like that."
-evil look turns into blank face-
"I just think you need help. And you're right, it probably shouldn't be your parents. Who is the person that's most honest with you?"
My aunt Sara and my Oma.
"Who lives closest to you?"
My aunt. Oma lives in Florida.
"Well, talk to her, then."
Okay...

If you're wondering what about this Airianna person makes me so close to her, then I don't know how to answer that. She used to cut herself, you know. But that was last year. She cut too deep, and she had to go to her older sister for help. Adrianne got worried, so she told her parents, and they made her swear to never do it again. I wore a short-sleeved shirt on the day I went to school, it was really hot out there, and Airianna noticed the multiple scabs on my wrist. She knew right away what they were from, and was surprised I didn't have any scars yet.
I need a sharper piece of glass, I really do. I can't use a razor - I've got an electric one that won't work for that.

Keeping thoughts secret and hiding is important to me right now. I don't know why I can't control my own mind, and I haven't really lost it. I know it's still there, I just can't use it like I used to.
So, it seems I must hide from the world.
If I don't, they'll probably look at me as the biggest freak on the planet. I don't want to go back to that - it's like being in the all-girls class. I'm the only un-popular girl in there. They tore me apart. Never again, though.

Cut into pieces,

---Anyone