To My Dearests

For whom do I write?

See, there are many People,

And each will be referred to differently,

But overall the poem encompasses my Dearests.

To my family,

To whom, despite their efforts,

I am still the outsider;

The "different".

To the red-head,

Whom I trusted,

Who broke that trust

Who I hated to cry in front of,

But left me no choice;

Because of external forces.

To the first Friend I've had in a long time,

Whom I still trust,

For whom I would drop everything in a heartbeat,

Should she say something funny

To the Section Leader, 

Whom I admire,

With whom I long to form a solid friendship

Who, often, would not realize the stress

She caused:

Always meaning well.

To Mine,

With whom I formed a relationship

On a vacation.

The one spark,

That led to three months of converstation,

How I long for that same relationship.

To the Twin,

With whom I can not be separated,

Whom I trust with secrets,

Whom I am sometimes scared of

Her power with words.

And to The Family

Oh how I wish you could answer

All the questions that are swirling, winding, tumbling

I had my chance,

In a dream once,

But never could figure out

What to say,

And how to say it,

Or where I was.

Oh how I wish you would answer,

But I don't dare ask, 

Because I never want to see you cry.

Not again,

Enough is Enough,

And I cannot bear

Another period of crying, of unhappiness, of uncertainty.

But answers are important,

So I make them up.

Make them up in my poems.

An answer for each one of you.

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