This is to pushing on the splintered walls of the world, trying to break free. This is to 4am phone calls and tears that can't be wiped away by tissues. This is to cancer patient dying in the end, because she wasn't strong enough anymore. This is to red wine and cigarettes on the bathroom floor, to the boy that didn't love her back. This is to valued letters and notes that got lost in the washer, torn into a million little pieces. This is for unwanted help, and most needed attention; to the girls that put up away messages in hopes he'll understand. This is to not only the guys being heartbreakers, but the girls as well. This is to the victims and victimizers; to the people that couldn't help it when they bled. This is to those that had their hearts ripped from their sleeves. This is to believing every lie. This is to being sick to my stomach just thinking about him loving someone else. This is to the pain I hold in every day. This is to the escape I thought I found in him. This is to those who live with a heart that has long since been broken. This is to all the "What if?"s and the wishes that'll never come true. This is to feeling so desperate, but can't help it, because all you want is them back. This is to all the words you never said and to the ones we choke on. This is to holding your breath in that one perfect moment and being terrified that you'll blink and it'll all be gone. This is to when it is all gone and you feel like you have nothing left. This is to realizing that it wasn't your fault. And that they're never coming back. This is to those who never got to say goodbye after saying something harsh before they left. This is to everything you thought once meant something and never did. This is to those who feel better aching than empty. This is to what didn't happen. This is to the tomorrows that are just another thing to get through. This is to how I wish I'd never come that close to loving you. This is to realizing that you are your own (and everyone else's) worst enemy. This is to those who are dying to be alive. This is to knowing a relationship may or may not work out, but taking the leap anyway. This is to sticking your finger down your throat, in hopes that they'll accept you. This is to every tear you've wasted on people who never cared. This is to sitting and waiting for your phone to ring. This is to being ignored and trying to being imperfectly perfect This is to finding him, and holding on tight. This is to the girl behind that smile. This is to those movies and magazines, the ones that make girls stop eating, stop breathing... stop caring. This is to wanting to speak the most honest words you've ever spoken in your life, not knowing whether they should bring you closer to living or dying. This is for all of us who cry with dry eyes. This is for those who fall in love in their dreams, and wake up only to wish to be sleeping again. This is to not knowing, and this is to not wanting to know. This is to True Love never ignited. This is to prose and poetry and those with tender hearts. This is to those who'll never get it... those who wonder where love starts. This is to that one person who you think is the kindest, sweetest, smartest, and most beautiful person ever. This is to that one person who means everything. This is to losing that one person. This is to loving him, but having to say no to him. This is to having him in your arms again, but knowing it won't last. This is to those nights where you just can't sleep because every word they said to you replays, over and over. This is to those days when you just stay at home, because your heart is too weak to take in laughing. This those nights on the sidewalk where the two of you were the two of you again after so many years of changing. This is to him telling your secrets that no one is supposed to know. This is to the girl that puts on his jacket when she's cold. And this is to the guy that catches her smelling in his scent. This is to letting go just as he starts to hold on. This is to beautiful boys who are just beautiful friends. This is to the ones that sit at home, lonely, hoping to find someone just like them. This is to the people who constantly want to bring you down because you were successful and they couldn't come close. This is to the boys that turned our hearts to glass just to shatter them and use the pieces to cut the wounds a little deeper. This is to all the times I wish I had said no. This is to all the times I knew what he was doing and I ignored it. This is to that tingly butterfly feeling you get when they're around. This is to the night when feelings changed. This is to the broken mirror and the blood on your ankle. This is to the very first kiss. This is to eye contact, avoiding it, keeping it, trying to hide it. This is to feeling emotionless, and watching yourself bleed to know you still feel. This is to the girl that never gives up, this is to the boy that lets her give up. This is for teaching yourself how to care, when it's the last thing you want to do. This is to the ones who still care, reciting promises of forever. This is to the fish that killed off all the others in the tank and now just won't die. This is to being so in love that it fucking scares you. This is to the words never spoken. This is to the fragile ones and the ones that never let them bruise. This is to those who attempt perfect, but know they'll never achieve it. This is to those who fight for the weak and hopeless. This is to those who never give up on their dreams - no matter what. This is to the girls who pretend to be super girl, just to hide their pain. This is to the boys that made them hurt. This is for the children who cry themselves to sleep at night, wishing that their parent's loved them. This is to those who survived and have become stronger, better people. This is to those who love that person more then they'll ever know, and have to live everyday wondering if they really care about you too.