I'm spending my last hour as a fifteen year old,
with a cold metal flask in my hand,
and a burning sensation in my throat.
never did I ever picture my life like this;
I pictured myself surrounded by friends at my sweet sixteen,
I pictured myself in a relationship with the most popular guy in school,
I pictured myself happy.
but here I am,
dealing with more **** than most people will have to go through their entire life.
it's like I'm continuously getting smacked in the face,
blindsided by a new problem every week.
first it was my parents divorce.
then it was our financial situation.
next I lost the love of my life,
my sunshine, my happiness,
my best ******* friend.
and the worst part is that I don't know why.
it's like she just decided she didn't want me in her life and I didn't get a say in it.
but today came as a real shock.
coming home to a hysterical brother,
surrounded by razors saying,
"I can't do it. I just can't do it anymore."
it's like at once everything in my life just decided to crumble apart and with everything that's going on, all I can think is,
"I can't do it. I just can't do it anymore."
so happy ******* birthday to me.
maybe this year I'll finally catch a break,
but at the rate things are going right now,
I don't see that happening anytime soon.
Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 11:15 PM UTC
How do I tell you I like you?
Where do I begin?
As each day new comes and goes,
My feelings for you only grow.
I guess it's the way you know when I'm hurting,
Without me having to say something,
You're always there.
Or maybe it's the intoxicated messages you send me,
To you they may be forgotten,
But I hold onto every word.
It could be the way we both find peace in the depressing messages behind sad music.
Or how you admitted to crying when you're upset.
It's the dark green crew neck you sometimes wear.
It's the soft looks you give me at practice.
It's how you promise everything will turn around for me like it's doing for you.
It's everything about you, really.
I'm crazy for you and I can't believe I let this happen.
Part of me knows that the only 'us' will exist in my mind,
But the rest of me just wants you so bad.
Maybe this is the only way I'll be able to tell you how I feel,
Through words you'll never hear.
But if one day you come across this,
I can only hope you know it's about you.
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 11:12 PM UTC
I'm 15.
I'm 15 and I'm an alcoholic.
I'm 15 and I've been smoking cigarettes for
a year.
I'm 15 and I've been with more boys then I can count on one hand.
I'm 15 and my preexisting anxiety and depression are becoming too much for me.
I'm 15 and I don't know if I can do this anymore.
I'm 15 and I don't want to be 15.
I'm 15 and I want to be 6.
I want to be 6 when I swore I'd never touch a cigarette in my life.
I want to be 6 when I didn't even know what anxiety was.
I want to be 6 but I'm not.
I'm 15.
I'm 15 and I want to be 28.
I want to be 28 with a man who appreciates my flaws and loves me no matter what.
I want to be 28 drinking a glass of wine or two at dinner, but no more.
I want to be 28 but I'm not.
I'm 15.
I'm 15 and I'm scared.
I'm 15 and I'm scared because I'll never be 6 again, and I'm scared that I might not make it 28.
I'm 15 and I don't want to be 15.
I'm 15 and I want to be.
Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 10:06 AM UTC
hey, are you awake?
if you're not, don't bother texting me back in the morning, but if you are I could really use someone to talk to.
I just watched a movie about a girl who was into older men. she was ***** as a little girl, that was her reasoning behind it. the main character reminded me of well, me, and I strated to wonder if i too was sexually abused when I was younger and have no memory of it.
I'm sad.
I don't actually know why I'm talking to you, i mean let's be honest you hate me.
additionally, you think I bring these things upon myself. you couldn't care less about my emotional state of mind because you just assume I'm messed up because of the drugs and the *** and maybe you're right.
I don't care.
I'm still sad.
I'm drunk, too.
I miss you though.
cigarettes don't give me the warmth that you did, no matter how many I smoke.
again, I don't know why I'm talking to you, and I don't quite know where I'm going with this either.
maybe I want you to know that I still exist, or maybe I want you to - I don't know what I want you to do.
I need your wisdom, that's it.
No, I really just need you.
My brother left today.
I cried a lot, and the house feels different without you.
I meant him. the house feels different without him.
you know when you brain takes over your fingers and types what it's really trying to say? I guess that's what I was really trying to say.
I'm sorry to have been such a bother. but it feels nice to tell these things to someone, even if it's to the man who broke my heart.
Jun 30, 2015
Jun 30, 2015 at 2:03 AM UTC
Drinking won’t
save you.
And the drugs
never work.
Not even
prescriptions,
therapy,
or *** with
some dead-
eyed ****
Though you
try and try,
sadly, you
never learn:
The next day,
it still hurts like
cigarette burns.
Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 11:49 PM UTC
The quiet air kissed my naked legs, leaving goose bumps up and down my skin.
The few seconds of sun and warmth that touched me were the nicest seconds the weather has blessed me with since you were here.
I snuck into the garage, shutting the door without a sound.
The lights were out - I need to fix them - but the light shining through the cracks in the wood and the musty little window was enough to keep the smile on my face.
I lit my cigarette and thought of you.
Summers coming and I know you'll soon return.
Darling, it was a long winter without you here.
But I'm certain that in a few weeks, I will not only hear the birds singing but I'll hear your voice too.
Because it wouldn't be summer if I couldn't spend it with you.
If I couldn't sneak out late with you by my side,
If I couldn't have someone to laugh with me,
To cry with me,
To enjoy life with me.
I need the warmth of the sun and the warmth of your touch.
And lucky for me, you are both almost here.
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 2:29 PM UTC
To the summer nights spent in this garage
Where the smoke from our cigarettes clouded the air
And the low hum of the speakers filled our ears.
We never would have guessed
That when we had lit that final bowl
It would be our last.
But here I am
A lifetime later
Home again.
The room looks almost the same
Maybe a bit darker, colder, sadder,
But the memories have been obliterated
The record player still sits there
But there's no more music to sooth our souls
No more Beatles, Pink Floyd, U2, no.
The 'Say no to drugs' clock still hangs on the wall
But the irony is long gone
Since that was the life we grew out of.
All the chairs still sat where they always did
But there was no you to fill yours
Just me to fill mine
So I took a seat on my lovely hanging chair
I reached over to our hidden stash of cigarettes
I took the last one, lit it, and put it to my lips.
But lastly
I said
Goodbye.
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 11:14 PM UTC