When I was very little, my dad used to make up songs about what he was doing around the house.
Getting ready to go fishing, he'd make up a song.
Making lunch; he'd make up a song.
And once, he was making coffee, and I vaguely remember it.
My dad was holding me while he was pouring the coffee into the coffee filter,
The water in the coffee ***.
I remember him looking at me and smiling and then he sang:
"I love coffee," he'd sing and I'd echo with what he'd sing.
"Coffee every day,"
"When I wake in the morning,"
"It gets me on my way."

-J

How many more children have to die
before we stop believing the lie that
America is safe
and America is great
and that we all live under the rule of a really great guy?
Before all our children don't need to vie
just to survive
going to school and coming out again alive?
Before mental disorders stop being the
brunt end of a joke
and that maybe there might be hope
that those who suffer don't have to walk on a tightrope?
What about when we can start living in harmony?
When we stop judging others and
start shunning dishonorary
acts of violence
acts of hate
and acts of crime before it's to late?
How many more children have to die?
How many?
How many?
How many?
How many???

-Spider

I looked at her, beautiful and powerful
In the light of the fire and she said
"Leave one wolf alive,
And the sheep are never safe."

-j

I had a dream of a dead friend once.
Words cannot describe how it made me feel.
He's been dead since May 2017,
but I feel him alive everywhere around me.
I see him,
In Garrett's curly hair.
I see him,
In the fiery red locks that Bridget has.
I see him,
In the blue eyes of my best friend.
I see him in the freckles on Julayne's face.
A long time ago,
I would have said that I hated him.
Maybe a part of me still does.
But a part of me also wishes that I could have said my peace
before the inevitable death came to be.

It was a crystal clear night in the winter months.
Though for some reason, the lake wasn't frozen over.
I could see the moon's reflection, and was standing at the shore
when two pairs of footsteps approached me.
A pier manifested over the lake,
leading to a white house on the other side.
"Hey," he said.
I was so shocked that I became a statue.
"It's okay. I'm not angry at you anymore."
He looked at me with a genuine smile. I missed being his friend,
even in light of what happened between us.
I was silent. I didn't say a word.
I don't think I needed to.
He accepted my silent apology.
"Grab my hand and don't let go."
I took his hand, paler than the moonlight,
but warmer than fire.
We walked across the pier, just me, him, and Hunter;
Hand in hand, almost skipping.
The stars were endless, and the temperature was surprisingly warm for the middle of the night in the winter.
We got inside the house and the three of us sat down on the couch.
He gave me a Gameboy and we started to play Pokémon.
Just the three of us.
Like nothing had ever happened.
And I think I miss him more than the anger that I held for him.
More than words can say.

Not a day goes by anymore where I don't
curse this volatile world for bringing me into it.
I'm angry.
I'm Sad.
I hate everything.
I'm a coward.
And I hate God and all religion.
I'm just an infantile complain-ee who can't seem to feel anything except hate and anger.
I'm over the death and the sadness and the violence of this iniquitous, depraved place we humans call Home.
Everyday, I wake up to the anger in my burning, nauseous stomach and wonder why I have to be such a coward.
Sometimes life is great but then I'm reminded that life involuntarily defecates on everything that matters even a little bit.
I used to pray to your so called God for help
Because it was what one of my friends would have done.
But now I see that even in her time of need, He was gone.
The devout little Christian girl that Christ didn't want to save simply because it would require work.
There is no hope for this manic, putrid planet.
I'm done being nice and pretending that I'm a good person.

What is home?
The word “home” is where someone lives.
A home is where they have family.
How does that quote go?
“Home is where the heart is.”
I don’t know what that means.
Today I was driving on Williams Field and Lindsay,
Heading east towards Higley.
I thought of the Pizza place that I’ve never been to.
Zella’s, it’s called.
Bosa Donuts right across the road, which is also ironically right next to a gym.
I thought about all the shops that are on this one street,
And then I thought of “home.”
The green fields of Wisconsin,
Or the desert areas of Mesa, Arizona?
I know this city better than I know the town I grew up in.
I know the roads, the weather patterns.
I know where to find the gas stations
And the corner stores.
Which parts of town are the “good” parts.
Which are the bad parts.
But we’re back to the same question.
What is home?
Because I live here in Arizona,
I know the streets and I love the city.
But I’m by myself.
What is home,
Because all my family lives in Wisconsin,
And I can’t even remember how to navigate
The town I grew up in anymore?
What is home,
Because my heart is here, with this city,
But I find myself missing Wisconsin more than ever?

How dare you make fun of my dead friend?
How dare you?
How dare you use his death as an excuse to say that you're happier than me?
How dare you?
Death isn't funny, and it's not something to use
Against someone.
How dare you?
It's not something to mess around with to gain sympathy,
Or to make yourself feel better simply because
You don't like someone.  
How. Dare. You.
The rage I'm feeling at the Universe we live in,
Is not directed at anything.
Except for the unfairness of life and how life
Takes the things we love most.
How dare you use that against me?
*H O W  D A R E  Y O U

How can I be happy when the world keeps going?
Don't you guys know that he's dead?
My beautiful, loving, goofy friend
Is dead.
Hunter please come back!
How could he be gone?
How could I be happy when I can't see his face anymore?
I can't ever see his blond hair bouncing around as he walks again.
There's nothing left of my amazing Hunter.
Why aren't they stopping to acknowledge his death?
Don't they know?
I'm so confused.
How can they not have known him?
How could they not have heard of the fiery death he suffered?
How could anyone not have known the amazing, kind, nerdy, dork that was my friend?
Please, take a moment for me.

Take a moment.
Google "Cranberry Road Wisconsin Car Accident Hunter Morby."
He was my friend. I've known him since I was a kid.
Please, just take a moment to acknowledge him.

This isn't a poem. This is more like a letter about a girl I knew.
Her name is Christina Grimmie. When she first started out on YouTube, I found her and I loved her. I commented on her video; something about the Zelda poster in the background. We bonded over that. And we talked for a little while, but then we lost touch. For a long time.
In 2014, she was on the voice. I was so proud of her. I sent her a Snapchat congratulating her and telling her how proud I was of her. And after that, we continued to talk. She was there for me when she could be. Sometimes she couldn't answer because she was on tour, or because she was recording, or simply because she was tired. We weren't best friends, but we were close enough to be considered friends. She lost touch with me again. The last thing we said to each other breaks my heart.
I don't know what to do. I'm so mad at everybody. Got any advice?
John 13:34- "A new command I give to you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another." Yu have to love people in order to be happy. If u sit here and resent them, yu wont be happy at all girl! Love yuuu.
She was shot and killed about a month or so later. And I was heart broken. I was so mad at the world. I deleted her from my phone because it was too painful. I regret that decision. I had lost someone so dear to me. I think about her every day. But one day I saw her brother, Marcus, pop up in my friend suggestion box on Facebook. I added him and he added me back. Now we talk all the time and its like I'm talking to her. It's like if you look behind Mark's eyes, there she is smiling back at you.
I don't talk about her much. It feels awkward. But I miss her a lot.

I gripped my steering wheel so hard
my knuckles turned white.
I blew through the yellow traffic light
just as it turned red.
65 in a 45, speeding faster and faster
dodging the slower cars.
Everything was a blurry mix of light and dark.
That one message sent
me into a frenzied fit of anger and nothingness.
I imagined myself
crashing my car into the light post to my right.
Instead I slowed down,
and turned left into my neighborhood.
I have no one
to confide these thoughts within my mind.
He's on the phone
with her, and I don't care enough about me or anyone
to drive safely anymore.
I guess that's what I get for reckless driving.

I used to look into her eyes and see
someone beautiful and intelligent and magnificent.
I'd look at her face, smooth pale skin
and red-gold hair, and see a spark within her.
She never thought her fire would go out,
being because she was such a fiery young girl.

But then she got older.

I used to look into her eyes and see
a flicker of the flame that used to be.
I looked into her face,
fierce and hard with years of emotional abuse
and I thought to myself that the fire was still there,
though it was just a flicker.

But then, one day, it went out.

I'm staring into her eyes now,
wondering who the hell she is;
Wondering what happened to the flame of a girl.
She is unrecognizable to me.
But I think.... I think somewhere
underneath this stone cold face..
I think this stranger....

**Is me.

The warmth of the fire flushes my cheeks and makes me sweat
just like the day I first met you.
Outside, the snow falls fresh; the sunset is beautiful
just like when you first kissed me.
My heart beats fast like bird wings
just like the first time we made love.

In the forest I lay down and talk to the trees about good things
just like when I was talking to you. And not about pleasantries.
The birds outside fly away frantically
just like you when we talked about the news we were avoiding.
My heart swells in my chest
just like the child that was in my body.

Each and everything I say streams out of my mouth
like a waterfall down the cliff side.

I was the one coddling you
like a mother would coddle a child.
You were the one who was crying
like it was my fault.

The warmth of the fire flushes my cheeks and makes me sweat,
and here I sit with a bottle of scotch thinking
*have you ever wondered why minuscule memories can be so loud?

Tell me, and I will listen.
Show me, and I will understand.
Take me in, and I will learn.

One year ago today, Christina Grimmie was taken from us. I remember sitting in my best friend's room watching her videos and saying "How does she even hit those notes!?!?" And since then, I've been there with Christina every step of the way. From her first Twitter account, to Find Me, to winning the iHeartRadio contest. Even her Hannah Montana days. (Lol). When I discovered Christina, I was immediately inspired to become more like her music wise. I started singing more. I started playing piano more. I learned a whole bucketful of new instruments because she inspired me to. And then one day, she answered a snapchat and just kind of started replying to me. We weren't at all super close, but close enough. Not only was she an inspiration, she was kind enough to be a friend. This year has been a weird year for Team Grimmie. It's been very confusing. But I couldn't be more proud of Christina than I am right now. She's come so far, even after she passed. I'm so proud of you, girl.

Love, me.

How fun it would be
To fall down a hole into a far away place,
Full of creatures unknown,
Stories untold,
A universe away from the human race.

How fun it would be
To be able to think all day.
Mad as a hatter,
Crooked as a caterpillar,
With no one to feed your head except
The whispering winds around you.

Oh Alice, dear Alice,
How I do envy you.
Up here, surrounded by malice
Violence, and ever-vacuous people.

Every day we feed our heads with
The words of crooked politicians
And mindless, uncivil movements.

Oh Alice, dear Alice,
This world's time is ticking closer
To the end.

The day you were born,
I couldn't be there to see you all wrapped up in blue.
Dad called me to say that
the doctors said you were perfectly healthy.

I wanted to come straight away,
but we have different mothers,
and mine would not take me.
I didn't think it was capable for me;
To love you more than I love anything.

I look through your blue-green eyes;
the same ones we share,
and see myself.
I was a happy little nuisance like you.

Your laughter, even when you know
you're being naughty,
Makes me laugh as hard as you do.
I can't help but smile when I think
of you, little brother.

When I lay you down for a nap,
it is relief, but do I get bored
when you're gone?
Yes I do.

Sometimes I sneak in your room
and watch you peacefully sleeping
just to make sure you're okay.

The day you were born,
I couldn't be there to see you all wrapped in blue,
but that matters not,
because nobody loves you more than I love you.

We've got a special kind of love.
it's so unbelievable.
I thought you loved me like I love melancholy moods.
But you only loved yourself,
So i have another story to tell,
Hold on, strap your seatbelt
We're about to take off.

You knew that we were all wrong
We were caught up in the ******.
Closer and closer we grew,
And things were getting ****
I want to get to know you, everything about you.
Perfect imperfections and sly innuendos.
And i never said it'd be easy,
But who knew this could be so pleasing?

You're just a basket case,
A yellow-bellied coward.
Why can't you say it to my face?
I'm getting older by the hour.
Time is ticking on, and im starting to get mad.
Erase the feelings of love and most everything we had.

You make you're way in like a venomous snake.
I'm sorry to say there's a line in your way.
The line is the bind between my love and your hate.
You're an unsympathetic ****,
Don't ******* treat me this way.
This simply can't work, trust me i know.
I've got the rage of a madman, so id run,
And run. I'd go.

Go away from me.
Stop feeling sorry for youself.
You want to try to control me, I'm on the highest shelf.
I pity you, honey, i really do.
Lying, manipulating *******, thats you.
You might want to start praying now,
Because im not about to bow.
This is really going to hurt,
So prepare for the worst.

Here's an announcement ladies and gents!
Cat's out of the bag so *******! Get bent.
I aim to please, and i ain't pleasing you.
My heart's on the mend, and oh yeah, *******!

You're just a basket case,
A yellow-bellied coward.
Why can't you say it to my face?
I'm getting older by the hour.
Time is ticking on, and im starting to get mad.
Erase the feelings of love and most everything we had.

You make you're way in like a venomous snake.
I'm sorry to say there's a line in your way.
The line is the bind between my love and your hate.
You're an unsympathetic ****,
Don't ******* treat me this way.
This simply can't work, trust me i know.
I've got the rage of a madman, so id run,
And run. I'd go.

My temper is high, you weak-kneed coward.
The pleasure's all mine you pathetic ****.
You're one of the ******, so you'll be
Locked in the cage.
This story is over, and yet not my rage.

We have a special kind of love,
And it's a dangerous one.
It's one that ends with you...
At the barrel of my gun.

I fell in love and my soul grew wildflowers.
Purples, pinks, blues, and yellows;
They grew from top to toe, smelling sweetly.
The sun shown brightly from the pupils of my eyes.
The grass was green and fresh and soft.

There was no storm in sight.

Not until later when seasons changed and the wind began to grow cold.
The flowers of my soul began to wilt and harden at the hateful autumn touch.

Then the snow fell. The first snow of my only winter.

The grass had turned brown and dark intimidating clouds blocked out any light.
The beautiful flowers that once gave me life, have died in the cold storm he left.
I fell in love once and it left me with nothing but a cold, dead heart.

Tuesday, July 16th

To my darling ex boyfriend, whom I thought was divine but instead was a divine joke:

It feels like ****** being shot through my addicted veins.
Like I'm on a high and I can't come down.
It feels like I'm flying above the clouds,
Through the stars and into extraterrestrial territory.

It's almost a sick feeling.
So good that I might just throw up from it.
I'm woozy and light headed but I can't help but smile
At the thought of your panic.

I've outed you.
Your secret is known to the public world now.
You've already lost at least one friend,
and now I wonder how you'll feel when you lose more.

You can call me petty if you want to;
cold-hearted, even.
But you should've known never sneak up on a Black Widow.
If you do,

It's clear that you'll be bitten.

-The Spider


07/16/19

Khloe.
You've got the sweetest smile I have ever seen.
You have blond hair like I did when I was 2.
You have the bluest eyes in the whole world, and I hope they stay that way.
I want you to know that you look more like I do than the rest
of your siblings.
Your mom told me once that you'll never
be as pretty as Kendal or Kaylie,
because you look more like dad and I.
You're so shy, and timid.
That's not a bad thing; it means you wont get into very much trouble.
For how much your mom calls you stupid,
you're actually pretty smart for a two year old.
You get your brains from me.
You're beautiful.
You'll always be beautiful to me.
Be proud of who you are, little sister.
I want you to know that I love you, and I will always love you
with all of my heart.
I don't know when I'll see you again.
Your mom and dad made it pretty clear that I am not a part of the Downey family anymore.
And if that remains true,
maybe someone will tell you that not one of your
sisters love you like I do.
I'm gonna miss you out here, Khloe.
I hope that when you're older you'll remember me and find me.
That you wont be mad that I missed out on so many
years of your life.
I hope that when you're ready, or if you even want to,
you'll come find me and then we'll talk.
But for now, I have to keep my distance from your family.
So I wont be seeing you at all.
And it's extremely painful and my heart breaks a little more everyday.
But I know that it's for the best for me and maybe even for you.
Who am I kidding? It's what's best for your mom,
but we wont tell her that.
I love you, little sister.
I hope to see you sooner rather than later.
Love,
Your oldest sister, Jordyn.

There is
                           A small memory I recall of
A time
                            When I was young
And
                            My dad and I went to
A place
                            Called the Hunny Tree.
                            We went there
For everything.

sunshine lands lightly on her eyelids,
sparks of orange and yellow
glide across her eyes.

image like a kaleidoscope
colorful and interesting, hard to resist.

a child playing in the front yard
on a summer's day
and laughter fills the air.

she is at peace when she feels the grass
under her feet.

a comforting blanket that she once had
ripped to shreds and sewn
back together again;

a flame in the darkness,
a star on Orion's Belt.

all she feels is the heat of serenity in knowing
that it might be okay now
and the sun has started to peak over the horizon,

covering her skin and
giving her the closure she needed.

I let your name roll off
My tongue,
One last time.
Like water, dripping down
A melting icicle;
That, and nothing more.

Landin.
Hey little man.
When you were born, my mom wouldn't drive me out to the hospital to see you.
I was so excited to see you I could hardly sleep.
You were the tiniest baby I had ever seen (and the cutest with those dimples of yours).
I was so proud to have a little brother, and not be
an only child on my dads side of the family.
You were my blood. Well, half of my blood anyway.
When I held you for the first time, I was so scared that I had to sit
down because I didn't want to break you.
When your mom, dad, and I brought you home,
we introduced you to our dogs Remi and JJ.
JJ was immediately protective over you. She loved you, ******.
One night, your mom asked me to watch you while
she and dad ran some errands.
I said it was fine, and that of course I didn't mind.
You fell asleep with your head buried in my neck
curled up in my arms.
You were only two weeks old then.
I watched you grow from two weeks to six months, to a year, to three years old.
I watched you figure out how to count to three.
How to crawl.
I watched you take your first step.
I watched you fall.
Every night I would silently tell you I love you, because you were my whole world.
Soon enough, after your sister was born, your mom
started taking me for granted.
Soon enough, you were with me every single day. Sometimes even at night.
I'd rock you to sleep when you were scared.
I'd build you a fort out of blankets and chairs when you were bored.
I'd take you for walks when your mom and dad were fighting
because you'd be crying so hard.
That must have been very scary for you and Khloe both.
I'm sorry that you have to live that life;
Of watching your parents fight and yell and scream
at each other instead of loving each other like they're supposed to.
I hope you'll remember me, little brother.
Your mom and dad made it clear that I am not going to be
a part of your life or Khloe's life.
That pain is unimaginable.
I hope that when you grow up you'll become curious and find me.
I love you so much, Landin.
You have absolutely no idea how much I love you.
If you ever need anything, someone will tell you
where I am, what my number is... My address.
She will tell you, and I will be here for you.
Goodbye for now, little brother.
Love,
Your biggest (and most favorite) sister, Jordyn,

I miss you. I'm thinking about you a lot today. I guess I always think about you around holidays and festivities. I wish you were here. It's been a year and one month, and life still doesn't make sense without you. All Is Vanity was your last album as far as I know, and it makes me so sad to think that you'll never come out with anything again. I wish I could pluck you from heaven just so I could hear you sing again. I've been practicing on making my vocal range as good as yours. You had a voice like honey, but also a voice that could move mountains. Do you remember thinking how your email was broken because you'd refresh it, but there were a hundred more emails to look at? And it was actually just because people kept viewing and commenting on your video? I thought that was the funniest thing. You were so freaked out, and it's funny because you never actually get scared of anything. Except spiders. You hated spiders.... I really miss you, Christina. I hope you're watching Team Grimmie. I hope you're looking out for Marcus and making sure he knows that it wasn't his fault. He beats himself up for not being able to save your life. Please make sure he knows you're okay. I love you, Christina.

The pain is not fiery.
The pain is not cold.
The pain is bitter.

I guess I find I'm not surprised
That all your words were filled with lies.
I just thought that you were perfect;
All this time that I deserved it.

All this time I pined for you;
And you didn't even love me true.
I had to find out about you secondhand,
and the taste of your specific brand.

I thought it would be shocking
to hear that you were **** talking.
Anxious about feeling the fury,
but all it did was humor me.

I don't feel anything anymore.
Anger, sadness, rage, all out the door.
It's not because I'm cold hearted.
It's just that now my heart's departed.

Broken, ******, battle scars;
Clearly we're not in the stars.
I will never love again,
For fear that they'll all be the same.

Everything always seemed to happen by your house,
and hidden by the trees.

It was a couple weeks after I slapped you.
We were in the woods again.
The snow was melting, and the frozen muddy ground
was visible again.
I sat down on a log, and you sat next to me.

"I really want to try. Can we please just try it?"

You looked at me, pleading for me to try to have *** with you.
But the thing is, you knew I'd never had *** before.
I was scared, and you knew that.

"If you loved me, you would try."

Being fifteen years old and a suicidal wreckage,
I didn't want you to leave me.
I was naïve enough to think this was love.
I agreed that I would try, not that it would go anywhere.

You laid down your jacket, so that neither of us would get muddy.
I started to pull off my pants, but I left my underwear on.
I just wanted to get used to the idea of your **** near that area.
I explained that to you, and you seemed to get it.

"Are you ready?"

I told you no, that I wasn't ready for any of this.
But I would do it for you because I love you.
You pulled off my underwear, and got yourself into position.
My heart was pounding. I kept saying for you to go slow.
And you did.

As your **** began to touch, I started to panic.
I was stuck, frozen in terror.
I had never had *** before, and I 100%  knew I wasn't ready to yet.
As you put your tip in, I remember that it started to hurt really bad.

"STOP. STOP. I DON'T WANT TO DO THIS, PLEASE STOP."

You didn't though.
Instead, you pinned me down,
putting your weight against my struggling body.

"No, I don't want to. Just let me get it in once, and then I'll stop."

My heart dropped.
This is where I began to panic.
I felt you try to put it in just a little more, but the pain was too much.
I let out a small scream, and then I started to cry.

And that's where you started to panic.
You got off of me, looking hurt and upset.
I put my clothes back on, and you picked up your jacket.

I was reeling. I was scared.
And you were mad because your jacket got *****.
I was still crying, and after what seemed like an eternity you
asked if I was okay.
I played it off like everything was fine.
Heaven forbid I hurt you.

Yes. That was just really scary. I asked you to stop, and you didn't and I just got nervous, that's all.

We went to your house.
You walked me home.

It's been seven months since I last saw everyone that ever mattered to me.
I've been anticipating my homecoming for two months because I missed my family.
I missed my older brother's ridiculous mannerisms,
His goofy laugh and stories.
It's been seven months since I've seen and heard any of that.
I needed my mother, because what child doesn't?
I missed her warm hugs and genuine smiles.
I missed her boyfriend and her silly nicknames she'd come up with for him.
I missed my dad and singing songs around the house with him.
I missed how he'd randomly burst out into song and dance.
I missed the smell of his cologne mixed in with cigarette smoke.
I missed my little brothers and sisters.
The shine in their eyes, the trill of their laughter.
I missed the smell of East Troy after it rains.
The quiet streets at night, and the chill of the air in the mornings.
I missed the lake, the fish, and the bugs.
I'm so happy to be back here spending time with my family and my friends.
That's what I came here to do.
I came here to create memories with my family that I only get to see about twice a year.
My life is perfect right now, and nobody can ruin it.
I'm home, I'm happy, and I don't have to worry about anything or anyone
Except for myself.

I went to your house today to see your mom.
It was weird.
There were photos of you everywhere;
On the walls, on the shelves, in the kitchen and bedrooms..
The only place that lacked a reminder of you was the bathrooms.
There we were,
Surrounded by your things,
All trying not to cry.
Trying to pretend that you're not actually gone.
Tia told me I could play your ukulele,
And as I held it in my hands,
I swear I could feel you there watching us.
We were surrounded by your things,
And I just hope that a piece of your soul is with your mom.
She needed you.
She loved you.
And now all she can do is be
Surrounded by your things.

Make like a cigarette
burn out.

-J

I've been feeling out of breath lately.
My lungs don't inflate properly anymore.
Waking up is the most taxing task that I have to accomplish on a daily basis.
I've been sleeping in,
And even after I wake up I stay in bed for hours.
It feels like the weight of the world
is crushing my chest.
Like an anvil is being dropped on my shoulders a hundred times a day.
I feel like Giles Corey;
Crushed by the weight of falling rocks.
Rocks that look like people I know.
Rocks that feel like sorrow and death and tears.
Being pressed to death by demons that accuse me of wrongness,
by demons who surround my head with dark thoughts;
by demons who claw at my throat,
tell me to do bad things.
I'm constantly running from the black mist in my mind.
Trying not to be swallowed by it.
But I can feel these shadows on my back,
and what lurks in this darkness nipping at my ankles.
And the more I run,
the more out of breath I feel.
And when I turn to give in to the shadows,
I have no more breath.
I can't inhale, because I've been crushed.
I suffocate; I can feel my soul dying a little,
Piece by piece, it crumbles until I am nothing.
I am out of breath now.

death is cold.
its the snow on the ground in the winter;
the darkness of a moonless night.
its the chill creeping up your back,
around your shoulders.
its the whisper that you hear in the wind,
or the shadow you see around the corner.
death is the burn of fire
on your bare, vulnerable skin.
death is crying his name in the dark,
convulsing, shaking, seething.
death is driving past that horrid place
at midnight;
thinking of drowning in the dark sea.
death is the warmth you feel
at your back when you feel nothing at all.
its the ghost that you miss.
its the voice that you can't hear anymore.
death is permanent.
death is....
free.

Around 930 AM.

My favorite barista is working today. His name is Zach. I was going to write about how badly i feel. I thought it was going to last because I got a positive feeling. It went away though. It was ruined by this ******* song. Now i can't stop imagining him with other people. Would my life be different if i never met him? I wonder where he would be and where i would be. Maybe the same place? Maybe not. Maybe I'd be worse off than i am now. Maybe he would've been better with Jessica. Or anyone else he would have met. I guess he missed a lot of better opportunities. It's easier to assume he doesn't care. If i convince myself that he hates me, maybe it'll be easier to control my feelings.

This is my life now and I ******* hate it. He just asked me to bring his xbox by. To drive all the ******* way back to my house and BACK AGAIN to his house. (Not to mention he BLEW ME OFF LATER IN THE DAY TO HANG OUT WITH MARIEM BUT WHATEVER).

Sometime before 10 pm

I am fuming tonight. How can he know everything that I'm feeling but keep me in the dark and not even try to tell me what he's feeling? How can he expect me to be perfect right off the bat? Does he???? I wonder if he expects me not to slip up. I wonder if his first immediate thought when I'm in a bad mood now is "has she really been trying to change?" The answer is yes, i have been. I've made a bigger effort now than i have ever made.

Space between paragraphs are breaks in my thoughts. I was raging out for the past few minutes. Silently fuming in my bedroom about that little mormon **** and the fact that he's with her right now. I probably shouldn't have written that about her just now. It was said out of anger, and anger makes people do unfortunate things sometimes. I think I just need to stop hanging onto the things that **** me off. Like the fact that at the end of the day, I'm only an afterthought to him. Or that he'd rather talk to anyone except me. Or that he's just too busy to care about me. I have to remember that "it's just not apparent right now." Maybe I just shouldn't care. It seems like that's exactly what he's doing. I could be wrong. I probably am. But he also doesn't seem to care about it enough to think about it like I do. I wish I was as gentle a soul as Little Latter Day Saint. Maybe then I'd be his type, and he'd take the time to think about it, but instead I'm just something to **** right now.

I'm getting angry again. I think I'll leave for now.

She’s the kind of friend who knows what you think before you think it.
Her laugh is familiar,
Like hot chocolate on a winter day.
Her presence is safe;
She reminds you of that big tree fort you and your brother built to hide from the fairies
And forest monsters.
Her room is home to you.
It’s where you go when something goes bump in the night.
She will never judge you for the out of pocket things you say or do, and
Her watchful eyes make you feel
Protected and seen for who you are.
She leaves tomorrow.
Back to Kentucky, 2,000 miles away.
And now you’re afraid
That you’ll never have a cup of hot chocolate again.
That the monsters and the fairies will finally catch you
Or the bumps in the night paralyze you with fear.
Nobody will ever know your soul
The way she did
And you’re afraid of being unknown and alone again.

I'm sitting underneath a bridge.
It's very old; almost 200 years old, to be exact.
And while I sit under this bridge, the Earth erupts.
It shakes violently.
I know I shouldn't be under this rickety old concrete bridge,
but I seem to find myself not wanting to move.
The water drips from the ceiling
Onto my face and neck.
I'm scared.
The world around me appears to be crumbling down,
and all I can do is sit here and watch it **** me.

Hunter. I miss you so much. It feels unreal that you're gone. When I found out that you died it was like someone had just kicked me right in the gut. It knocked the wind out of me. You, Jason, and Landen all in a car accident. You were in the back seat; you had no control over what was gonna happen. Jason was driving. Too fast. He was driving way too fast for Cranberry Road. He lost control of the car and you all got wrapped around a tree.

And then you exploded.

The car was a fiery wreck when the ambulance and the fire trucks and police came. What were you thinking when he lost control of the car? Were you scared? Did you even have enough time to be scared? When they found you, you were burned beyond recognition. They needed your dental records to identify you. I keep seeing your face everywhere I look. I forget that you're gone for a minute and then it's like I just found out all over again. I miss you Hunter. You were so goofy.

I remember two or three years ago we were watching a Packers game at Mandie's friend's house. You saw me eating fruit snacks and you asked me for some. I gave you a pack and that's when it started. Every day at school after that, you'd ask me for my fruit snacks at lunch. I miss that, Hunter. I miss hearing your voice in the choir or in the new musicals. You were so talented. You were nice and funny and the biggest dork I know. I love you, buddy.

(CONTENT WARNING: NSFW)

Tonight he gave me a full body massage.
He massaged my back and my neck, worked his way down to my legs and told me to flip over.
I laid on my back, in just my underwear as he rubbed my legs.
He looked at me, with a sort of hunger in his eyes, and he said,
"You sure you want a full body massage?"
I said yes.
He started to rub me, in my most vulnerable area.
He kissed my neck, my cheek, my lips.
He kissed me from my lips to my chest to my pelvis.
And then he really kissed me.
He flicked his tongue up and down, and drove me insane with pleasure.
Then he started using his fingers.
I was seeing pure, absolute bliss.
Shaking and shuddering happily with every touch, squirming and moaning.
"Mmm, you like that, baby?" he asked.
Then it hit me, like an explosion of light.
The heat of relief and pleasure, complete relaxation and happiness.
Yes, I said. I pleaded that I needed him.
I wanted him so badly.
"I don't think you want me enough," he said, and I groaned, agonized by his tease.
I really ******* do, I said as I grabbed him and pulled him closer.
He took off his shirt and his boxers,
And pushed inside of me.
It was beautiful and hot, and it felt so good.
I was squirming.
I wanted it hard and fast, but he teased me slowly and gently.
He pulled my hair, he kissed me.
"Is this what you want?" He asked as he ****** deeper and harder.
I was mad with a need for him.
I growled, yes, please baby.
He went wild, then.
And when he finished, I saw that same light and felt that same relaxation.
We were a heap of flesh and sweat and wild love.
"I love you," he told me in a gentle tone, and he kissed my lips.
I love you too, I replied happily.

Sometimes
when I lay awake at night,
I think of what my heart looks like
if someone were to
cut me open.
I wonder
if he would try to break it.
I wonder
if he would sit down and intently
watch me bleed.
Probably
not. He'd walk away before I took
my last breath.

Sometimes I'm a little jumpy
when you go to touch my body.
While I know you'll never hurt me,
I always wonder
if you might.

You were always so upset
for reasons I still don't know.
I did my best for you and gave you
all I had to offer.
You still hurt me.

It's not your fault that the memory
of stone fists is forever
burned into my brain.
It's not your fault that I chose
that path four years ago.

You came on to me like a
Hummingbird to honeysuckle.
You ****** me dry and you left me to die alone.
I forgive you, but sometimes...
It still really hurts.

Sometimes...
I'm really jumpy when you go to touch my body.
I can see the wonder in your eyes;
I see the questions.
I'll answer them as soon as the woe leaves me.
I love you.

You, too.

.

Daydreaming all day thinking in future timing
and feeling happy
like a sailboat on a calm ocean
in Malibu, California.
Paying no regard to the rocky bottom;
it can't reach me all the way
on the smooth surface.
The May flowers are finally flowering
after April spent it's time showering
and March covered in snow.
I'm so hopeful.

I'm grieving a Lost friendship.
My best friend
Victoria.
Can I still call her that?
Could I have ever called her that?
Some of you might have heard me speak her name in hate,
In anger,
In pure, undying rage.
But today I speak it in love,
Because I love her;
Victoria.
I love her, but I had to let her go.
She's the only one who understood,
What I was going through.
What my family life was like, as a Big Sister,
As an unloved child.
She even understood the heartbreak I endured in 2015.
To an extent.
And this brings us to the second stage of grief:
Anger.
I am angry at her for choosing him over me.
If she were my friend, how could she be with him?
Knowing what he did to me, to JRF?
To Molly, with hair like a lion's mane?
How could she see blindly past it?
I can never get his touch out of my aching skull;
How can she love being touched by the same hand who hurt me?
Who hurt at least 3 others?
I asked my mom what she thought.
Was our friendship weird?
Awkward?
Unusual?
"Imagine if Anna got together with Travis, who I am still to this day traumatized by, 21 years later. Of course it would be awkward to be her friend.
She wasn't a true friend."
Could that be?
Could that really be the truth behind the pretty pictures?
Could she, deep down, not see me as a friend?
"It's always been about winning with her. She has Mark, who you were so in love with. She's trying to dangle that over your head. That's what she's always done!"
But that's not true.
All we had was eachother, for the longest time.
We're past all that, right?
Right??
Maybe.
.... right?
I loved her.
Victoria.
I'm angry at her.
Victoria.
I love her, and I'm angry at her.
I miss her.
Victoria....
- The Spider

Once, when I was a teenager, I got drunk and high.
I was so crossfaded;
I saw the world in a Viper Room blurred haze.
I remember the people I was with.
My best friend, and some guys from school.
Everything was moving in slow motion,
frame
by frame
by frame.
I saw phantasms of my friends moving from one side of the room to the other,
their ethereal beings following behind them.
The high undulated every few minutes,
becoming so intense I could just see the waves forming before vanishing.
It was the middle of the night.
I had sat down on the couch next to the neighbor boy.
Touching was very intense.
The heat of his skin through his clothes
where our legs and elbows brushed flushed my cheeks amaranth.
I remember feeling euphoric,
perfectly content about where I was and what I was doing.
He laid his head on my shoulder,
falling out of the high like a wounded raven from the sky.
I was so warm.
I remember thinking I could stay on that couch,
letting this altered state of mind befall upon me in perpetuity.
Happy, forever.

July 23rd, Tuesday
dial tone ringing
Hello?
Hi there, how are you feeling?
I feel like I'm going to explode.
My mind wont stop racing.
My heart won't stop aching.
Mistakes that I'm making
Keep eating me alive.
Just take a deep breath, tell me why.
I'm a huge ******* joke.
Ask me why again and I'll choke.
My vision is clouded with smoke
and my fragile walls are breaking.
You're not a joke, all you need to do is breathe.
Once the air fills your lungs,
you'll be able to see--
See what? That karma is a *****?
That my lies make people's skin itch?
I know that I'm absolutely worthless.
I know, I know. I deserve this.
No! No, you're not worthless! You just need--
Click
Dial tone

-The Shriveled, Dead Spider.