Remember the three poems that I posted yesterday? Remember the boy I used to blog about? Well i showed him the poems.... my friend noted that his smile as he read my depressing work slowly transformed into a frown. This boy rarely frowns. I swear.

Anyways, later this afternoon, as I walking to the bus, I asked this other boy, who is my friend, if he has ever had bad thoughts. Depressing bad thoughts. he said everyone has them and the best thing to do is to not put yourself in the...

I really like you. I overanalyze everything you do around me. I think you look mighty fine in that leather jacket. You have no idea how much I want to run my fingers through your hair. Is it soft? I bet it is.

Gah.

I love you so much. You have no idea, do you? I doubt you have a clue of how I feel for you.

I wish I was braver; maybe then I'd know if you loved me too.

When I grow up, I am going to be a psychologist. I have been told that I work well with people; I give good advice. An adult, family friend, said that I work well with people, especially after seeing me escort homeless people, who came to the church today, to the line. I might work with children. Maybe assault victims. I don't think i'll want to work with complete murdering sociopaths, though. I am the person that one can lean on. I am the support system.

To end this note,
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