When you think it's just beginning

I don't think many people can relate to how I feel. Have you ever had someone you love die right before your eyes?
If the answer is yes, keep reading.
If the answer is no, then you cannot possibly feel what I feel, every minute, of every day.

I feel this way
I cry each day
I cannot breathe
I start to heave
When the lights are out
And we cannot shout
Know I'm here
I may be queer
But in the dark
I can always wait for you

In the sand...

Buried in the sand with a life that could be lived
Taking happy memories and all that could've been bliss
Twas a sad moment when you say "I never was kissed"
Everything has changed, and everything's amis

My darling, you have lived your life to the other side of dawn
And I can't help but wonder if you should've been reborn
This life is not to live without the dawning of the sun
My darling, do you believe, you could've been the one

If You Only Had One Minute

What would you do if you only had one minute to live? Would you call everyone you loved to tell them how much they mean to you?
That's what she did. She texted the people closest to her.
I got a text from her that said; Dear Rach, I'm dying. I need you near me.
Of course, I thought she was kidding. So I didn't go.
And I have to live with that guilt every day until I die.

Breathe, just breathe

The last thing she said to me was long. It seems like ages ago.

"Promise me you'll breathe. Gasp for air. Whisper like the wind on sunny days."

"Cry for me, always love me."

"Breathe, just breathe."

"Rachel, love always."

...When We Breathe...

We eat, we laugh, it's a given.

We fight, we make up, it's forgiven.

We talk, we breathe, we're alive.

We kick, we scream, we'll survive.

We eat, we laugh, we fail.

We fight, we make up, we wail.

We talk, we breathe, we're strong.

We kick, we scream, we're wrong.

When we breathe, it's all better.

Dye It Blonde

Brown hair, brown hair. She wanted to dye it black.
Black hair, black hair. She wanted to dye it blonde.
Blonde hair, blonde hair. She wanted it gone.

Bald head, bald head. She wanted to be pretty.
Heavy makeup, heavy makeup. She wanted to be like me.
My twin, my twin. She wanted to be herself.

She left, she left. She wanted to say goodbye.
Goodbye, goodbye. She wanted me to say goodbye.
Love always, love always. She wanted to always be loved.

Your hair, your hair. Dye it blonde.


I hope to see more blonde or bald people walking around to surrender her name. Please dye your hair blonde for the sake of people living like her.

Dear Elliot

I was once in her room and I found this note that she wrote to her boyfriend of (about) three months, Elliot

Dear Elliot,
     It saddens me to think I'll soon be gone. It won't be deliberate, but I will soon die. Something will go wrong, I swear to God.
     I love you.
     What is even more painful is that I won't actually give this to you. If you find it, though, it will be okay, because you know that it will have been an accident.
     And accidents do happen.
     Love always,
     Lira

The New Skater Boy - Rip Off Of Avril Lavigne

He was a boy, she was a girl, can I make it any more obvious? He liked to walk, she liked to talk, what more can I say? He wanted her, she'd never tell, but secretly she wanted him aswell. All of her fans, stuck up they were, walked away from her.

He was a walker guy, she said "See you tonight?" He was the best thing she could ever get. Now he cries in his room, on the drums he booms. Can his sad face see what she was worth?

Five years from now, he sits at home, feeding his face, he's all alone. Turns on TV, guess who he sees? It's her death anniversary. He calls up his friends. They already know. And they've all got tickets to see the show. He tags along, stands in the crowd, looks up at the face he should've turned down.

He was a walker guy, she said "See you tonight?" He was the best thing she could get. Now she is dead and gone. And he wishes she was born. Does his pretty face she what she was worth?

Sorry boy but you missed out. Well tough luck that girl's gone now. You were more than just good friends. That was how the story ends. Too bad that you couldn't see. See the woman that girl could be. There was more than meets the eye. I saw the soul that was inside.

Lollipop

We walked down
To the lollipop shop
And we stopped

We bought
Watermelon and apple
We never  had a crisis
Until that day

She picked up
A brochure
And blood fell on the tile
A papercut

And then
She cried
Hadn't cut herself in a while
But she said
It felt the same
But better

And then she started up again
And I regret the day
We bought those lollipops

Pain and then the Rain

Blood. Thats what she loved. And then she would go outside, into the storm, and it would wash the blood away, so that she could be saved.
I remember the screams, the shock horror. I remember the looks on her sad little face.
And I remember the quote on her headstone.

No one, no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't save someone who was already dead.

Her soul was always dead. She had a heart to love others, but not herself.
WHY COULDN'T SHE COME BACK? WHAT WAS WRONG WITH ME? WHY DID SHE LEAVE ME WITH HER PAIN?

Save yourself. Leave me to suffer.

In The Open Wind

A poem she wrote.

Rain comes down, and I feel okay.
The wind blows, the trees sway.
Having fun is what I'm good at.
For it do please call me a prat.

Oh, the smell of wet grass.
I can't sit down, coz I'll get a wet arse.
Leaves fall lightly on my head.
Oh, this is better than being in bed.

I could just stay here all day.
Please believe me when I say.
I want to be buried in this appear.
Nowhere else. Not there. Here.

I'm Just Sitting Watching Rain On My Window Pane

The rain gave her joy as it gives me joy. She would sit for hours just watching her garden grow. I love the rain, but she did more. She would take pictures of it and video tape it. This, above, is one of her videos that she put on YouTube.

This is a photo she took of rain

Scare The Bejesus Out Of Me

This is a poem she wrote about being scared.

Scare me, watch me fall.
Kick me over to the wall.
Hear me cry, watch me suffer,
You great bloody stinking buffer.
Hold on to hope, give me none.
Tell me that I'll be someone.
Swear out loud, cover my ears.
Block your own when I tell you my fears.

Look out, I'm gasping for air.
And soon I'm going to pull your hair.
I'll react, I won't stay calm.
But you won't react, you'll stay calm.
You won't scream and then you'll die.
And then if you're lucky you'll cry.
I will fight back, just so you know.
But one thing I won't do is let you crow.

The World Through Her Eyes

She would never make judgements before telling you how selfish or unbelievably kind you were.
She always thought that if someone was mean, they were just having a bad day.
She knows how much she loved the world, but she did not love herself.
She would hurt herself for liking everyone and everything.
She died without an enemy.
She died without a friend.
Everyone just labelled her as 'the nice girl', but she hated them for it.
She didn't like people looking at her scars.

I want you not to be like her, but to be just the same.
I want you to listen to her, but not hear every word she says.
I want you to hang on for dear life, but let go at every opportunity.
I want you to fling yourself off a cliff, but to hang on until you were told to jump.

I know it's hard.

In My Arms, You Are Safe

This is a poem she once wrote about anyone who is scared or alone.

In my arms, you will be loved, dear.
In my arms, you will be short of fear.
I will teach you to believe, girl.
I will teach you to hug the world.
I will ask you to be strong, honey.
I will ask you to sing for bunnies.

In my arms, you are safe.
Remember me. Love me always.
Don't give up tomorrow.
Be strong. Don't give up.
Because in my arms, you are safe now.

Things that stick...

We once made stir fry at her house. She thought she was putting salt in, but she accidentally put in sugar.
She liked to dance on tables.
She liked to sing at the top of her lungs.
She would ask anyone to date her when we were out and about. Some people said yes. Her reply to that was "You're dumped. I'm having second thoughts about that pimple on the end of nose." Everyone's hand went instinctively to their nose.
She was blonde, but not dumb.
She taught me to believe.
She taught me that the truth is sometimes too hurtful and that sometimes, you need to bottle everything up, and wait for it to come out in a gush.

She told me to love her always, no matter what.

This blog is a contribution

I don't expect anyone to read this blog, nor do I care. This blog is a contribution to a friend I once had, Lira Fisher.
She was everything to me. She loved to cook, she loved to sing. She was the highlight at any party, until the fateful day came when everything stopped.
But everything happens for a reason, right?
I will continue to write on this blog, for I know that Lira would have been proud of me holding on for so much longer than she did.