Dear Hannah Baker,

Hey Hannah! I feel you. I really do. I know what you did was absolutely wrong, committing suicide was wrong but I also understand that it wasn't your wish but your helplessness. I understand that death is at times more peaceful than to live around people who make your existence worthless. You've been through a lot but still somehow you managed to show us your cute smile behind which the shaken, depressed girl was hidden. You tried so far but still couldn't make it.
It's really sad how 'Your people' betrayed you. It's sad no-one cared for you , supported you in bad times. You're realatable. I feel you Hannah! I really do !!

-

For how long
Will you water the apologies
You planted on my grave?

They have already bloomed
Into regrets.

-

In the world of thirteen reasons why she left,
be one reason that she stayed.

-

Sometimes it's a piece of writing that gives hope to make you hold on to life.

-

I saw the hidden pain in her eyes.
I saw the fake smile on her lips.
I saw her feeling awkward
Not because of her clothes,
But for the boys who she fall for.
I saw the gloomy poet in her.
And read her misery story.
Expressed in poetry.
I saw the change of action,
In her every reaction.
In her every move i saw another
HANNAH BAKER

-

Everybody cared but just not enough



- Hannah Baker

-

I tried to forget you.
I started burying my heart
In rose-coloured mud.
I found other names to
Keep me awake at night
And grin widely at their
Names at three in night.

I wonder if you remember
How happy I used to feel
When you would tap my
Shoulder and talk in whispers
While the English teacher
Explained the note found
By Bassanio in the lead casket.

But you have now made an
Abode in my scars and
Whenever I succeed in not thinking
About you before sleeping,
You appear in my dreams
And I see my mom laughing
And you smirking at me.

-

Yes!
Clay Jensen will never be the same. His Hannah will never see him the same

-

There is something about staring at space, and being completely still,
While the world is still competing around you,
After all, it's about survival of the fittest.

There is something about those eyes,
They laugh everytime the lips do, not lagging behind once,
But then pretension makes the foundation of reality these days.

There is something about solitude, comforting and distressing at the same time,
Like a tub of ice cream, too tasty and too cold together,
But you grow habitual to it, with time.

There is something about words, written at that,
Once you find the comfort, nothing else can replace it,
The spoken ones aren't even in the competition anymore.

There is something about me, the thirteen reasons that make me, me
The ones you will never know outloud, because I would never disclose,
But your heart will always know that one of the thirteen reasons had been you!

-

The truth isn't always the most exciting version of things,
Or the Best or the worst,
it somewhere in between.
-the_broken_pencil

-