I think of the little girl who had to grow up being unwanted her whole life. Her mom disowning her, leaving her to fend for her own at such a young age, before she even knew about her body. I think of how much anger and sadness that has to be built up inside her. How much she desperately needs someone to care. About how I pushed her away. I think of the little boy who stole money, and everyone hated him for It. But they didn’t think of the reason he stole it. They didn’t think about his addict mom who forced him to in order to get her fix. No, I just saw him as a thief, not a young boy who didnt have any other choice. I think of the young guy who thinks he found love because this is the first person in his life he can open up to. How he would do anything for her because she’s been such a big part of his life. About how people just call him foolish for being with her. About how he has to go to the marines, not college because he can’t afford it and wants to have a future. He can’t afford it because his mom has spent everything they had on a crackpipe. I wish he’d let me in. I think of the girl who desperately wants to get out. She wants to get away from her alcoholic dad who abuses her mom. She fears for her safety. She’s trapped and she has to endure it. I think of how much I wish I could help her. I think of the young girl who happened to meet the wrong guy. How she still loves him after years of being apart. How she gave up all hope and turned to heroin because it made her feel numb. How she was cussed and treated like nothing more than a lowly mutt when really all she needed was someone to tell her it’d be okay. I think of now how she’s a week sober and how proud she wants everyone to be of her. How she just seeks love and acceptance from her family. I think of the girl who struggles to meet expectations by her peers, forcing a smile at school. I think of her going home to a broken home, her mother choosing the crackpipe over her. Her stepfather closing everyone out. Her brother trying to make a future for himself. Her sister struggling to stay sober. Her family that disown each other because they’re too worried about getting their high. Her best friend who has to constantly worry about if its going to be a bad night and hopes her father won’t do anything too bad tonight. I tell myself that it’ll all be okay, and I cry for all of the hurt that’s around me. The hurt I feel, and the hurt that takes over my dear ones. Sometimes, I think I’ll never make it. Sometimes, I wonder If my life is necessary,  how I just want all this pain to end. Then sometimes, I think, even though everything is so broken and wrong right now, it has to get better. It has to. & sometimes I think I can make it. I will. & So will all of them.