We were stuck at a boy scout meeting with our brothers. 

We were the only girls there. 

I was in third grade 

You were in second 

Your favorite color was orange

Mine was blue 

We lived on the same street 

It was destiny

We spent many nights staying up late 

Telling secrets and laughing til our stomachs' hurt 

 In the summers we would plan days to spend at the beach 

Ride our bikes to get ice cream 

Our favorite thing to do was to bake

We would eat our goodies and binge watch Criminal Minds

You would tell me all about the new country music you found 

I would tell you all about the pop punk music I love

We would fight over which character on our favorite t.v show we had a crush on 

Making that person ours. There was no sharing when it came to boys 

I was there for you when you had your first break up

I threaten to kill the guy 

You always knew how to cheer me up when I was sad 

Now all you know how to do is make me cry

You broke my heart and acted as though our friendship was a lie 

I have ten years worth of memories that once were happy and now make me cry

We were only suppose to get in little stupid fights where we would make up right away 

You stopped texting me 

You never said hello 

You waited until I said something, wondering what was going on

You told me you were done putting up with me, basically our friendship was a waste

I pathetically wish and pray we can work through this because I still love you. 

Down from the tower I needed to go

For there was an impostor in my parents' eyes

Locked away as she pretended to be me

My kingdom in her hands, dying

It was meant to be my ruling

Day after day I tried escaping

Til one day I met you

You say that I’m too young

That I’m lazy

But I think you’re crazy

You threw the pitch and I swung

I wish I hadn’t because it stung

You say that I don’t know a thing

But since when were you voted king

And now the bell has rung

I act older than you think I am

I know more about this family

I can’t forget the past

I can take more than a battering ram

Not everything I’ve done is a tragedy

Your lies hit like an icy blast

My heart sung as I plunged the knife into the whore's stomach. I laughed gleefully as her eyes widen, suddenly aware of what was going to happen to her. She was mine now, I could do whatever I wanted to her. I could plunge the knife again and again, or I could slowly slid it along her now beautiful skin, making it pour her crimson blood, staining her skin. Making it beautiful no more. I could leave her here in the empty ally making sure that the only way anyone would recognize her would be by her dental records. I could leave her posed beautifully, accenting what made her so lust worthy. The curves of her body, so irresistible, any man could be swayed by them. Her sea blue eyes that anyone could get lost in. Her flawless skin every women around her dreamed of having. Her smile, so enchanting it could trap a man with just a glimpse of it. All of these features would prove why she was so evil. Why she was the perfect one for me. As a whore she knew how to use these features to get what she wanted. She wrapped anyone she could around her little finger. She had too much power over men, that's why she had to be stopped. 

I left her in the ally, beaten and bruised. The knife cuts that once bleed a crimson color were left to turn to an ugly rust. I left her there looking like the whore she was. I left her to find my next release. 

How can you believe that there is some holy and righteous man living in the sky?

That he created us all. Why would he create some of us to hate the way we look, make us despise looking at our own reflection, he didn't help us when we thought we were useless, and believed we were providing nothing for this world.

He let our children die by their own hands.

Making us repeat the phrase, "They're in a better place now," because that would cause us any relief from the pain and sadness that seized our fragile hearts. 

We are here on this Earth, this hell, mourning the loss of them. Why were they not happy with us, here, on this pathetic place, where they left us. They took the color, the light, the joy, and the life in this world when they left. 

Those who were so displeased with themselves thought the only solution was to take a bottle of pills, slice their wrists, or put a gun to their head. That it would finally bring them relief from the sadness and pain that they felt, that they would finally love themselves.

The god you so righteously believe in, didn't lift a finger to stop them from pulling the trigger. He allowed this to happen.

For them to be ripped from your loving arms.

And yet you praise him for bringing them to a 'better place'

How can someone be so selfish?

Letting the thoughts of guilt invade your mind.

Maybe if you had done this, or said that, they would still be here.

You wouldn't be choking on the tears that overflowed from your puffy eyes.

No cursing at the one who took them from you. The one you stilled praised for bringing them to a better place.

You want to be in a better place too, what are you supposed to do?

Let god convince you to pull the trigger?

Let your family and friends mourn and wonder if they could have done anything to stop you.

Have the years pass by and have them wonder what your life could have been like?

How can there be a belief in a god that has caused so much pain and yet has a whole nation wrapped around their finger. Making the very mention of their name a praise.