Drop dead, Sara.

Be watching, Sara. The boys of the world are out to get you. The ones you love, the ones you hope to love and the ones you once loved. Do not attach your heart strings, do not reach out your arms. Collect your tears, they fall like rain and feed the earth with your stories, gold and amber, smooth as glass. They are your lovers, and nothing else will keep you as safe, hold you as close. When you dance at night no one will see you, but your words will weave into the melody and fill your heart and you will not be alone. Write for the world and not the boys, write for yourself and not for him. Write and be free to love what you write, it will not leave you, it will not bend over and stab you in the night. You knew, in your heart you knew what love was not, and I saw you there, question yourself and then you did it. Reached out your pen and wrote for him, who you hoped to love, and not twelve hours later you swallowed your beauty. Why does it happen to you? The world will turn and you will breathe and one day, you'll be free... you are free.