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forewarn

we wont need legs to stand.
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[ 10th Aug 4 am ]
What's a font with feeling? With sadness? Something that will express grief better than words? Something that wont look as trite as words do now? She was wonderful, she was beautiful, she was intelligent, she was a friend. They're things we say about everyone who dies: they were wonderful, they were intelligent, they were a friend. They're things that don't mean anything, don't mean enough. Words can't express this loss.

How is the world supposed to deal with a loss like this. Seventeen. 17. Seventeen years old. Murdered. A senseless act that breeds senselessness. My thoughts can't stop going in circles around it, seventeen. Seventeen. 17. Just a baby, just a little girl on the cusp of life. Standing at the edge with so much hope and passion, so many dreams. Seventeen. 17.

I'm five years old. I've just woken up from a nightmare. I want to crawl into my parents bed, I want to be comforted and held and told that everything will be alright. But that's not the case. I'm not five, I'm twenty. I haven't just woken up from a nightmare, I've woken up into a nightmare. My rose tinted glasses have fallen off, I'm seeing the world for what it is. Senseless. Murder. Seventeen. A place where nothing makes sense, a place where pretty, intelligent, wonderful, friendly, insightful, vivacious seventeen year old girls can be abducted and beaten to death, left in cars with their throats cut while their parents worry and panic.

Her parents. They were so lucky to have a child like that, a beautiful, bright light in a world rife with darkness. I can't imagine watching a flower like that bloom, it must have been so magical. And now to lose that? I can't even imagine the immense sadness they must feel, the most insane, unthinkable, impossible loss. Lily was a gift, Lily was such a gift. Wrapped in goodness and fun and love, enough ribbon and paper to wrap everyone who knew her in it, too. She was something wonderful, something to be cherished. Not something to be beaten and left. She was seventeen. Seventeen. 17.

It's not right. It's not fair. It was a senseless act, it makes no sense at all. She was a good person, a great person. She doesn't deserve to be dead, to be murdered. She was only seventeen years old. Lily Belle Burk. Leelee. Lilybelle. Our Lily. Taken too soon for no reason at all. No reason in the world.

"skin
i am always frustrated with you and i wish you away all the time because i have a strange desire to be massless and float away but i need to learn to appreciate being human and you are a great anchor and you are very patient with me so thank you"
Massless and floating forevermore. Rest in peace, Leelee.
cmnt

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