Today I cried on the floor of my kitchen i sat there with my head in my hands i sat there for half an hour crying drooling screaming into my shirt sleeves after a while, i went numb i stared at the floor listening to my family in the living room
its just another meltdown she probably just forgot to take her meds shes probably on her period she needs to learn some respect
the real world will show her she cant act like a baby every time shes upset.
I keep my old pill bottles. not because I plan to reuse them, or fill them with extra beads, stray sewing needles random coins, a travel pack of Q-tips, or tiny paint tubes that I might use to somehow make my mental illnesses art. I keep my old pill bottles because they are me. I keep my old pill bottles because they are one month of me. they are not me because they have my name, address, medicine, doctor, pill quantity, pharmacy, Rx number printed on them in ******* ink. they are me because they held the chemicals my body could not dream of creating. What they hold is not beautiful. it is not deep. it is a second leg you have to re-stitch every day because your body didn't know how to grow one. Those bottles hold the pills that make me, me. I feel because of them, I sleep because of them, I live because of them. Before them, I was not human. I was a body with partial instructions. Every Month I have to get another extension of myself from the local CVS. Every month I put an empty bottle in the box on my nightstand because that bottle held what I was last month.
it's strange looking at a small white pill knowing that someday this month, that pill will be the reason you react to something important the way you did or the one you forget to take causing a break down in your English class.
im sorry if i seem a little silly im just a little new to this i promise im not this weird really and what i try to hit i miss its just that i like you and trying to make that notion my courage is a gnat and you are an ocean
your waves crash over me when you give me that smile my heart beats times thirty it makes my day worthwhile your eyes are my favorite color and your hair is bright like the sun my ability to speak is getting smaller this is something ive never done
i really wish you could see that im not such an idiot my flirting skills are ****** but i promise im literate i just cant find the words i need to describe how beautiful you are in life you are sure to succeed compared to everyone else you are a star
please know that when i say you are beautiful i mean inside too you have managed to amaze me in every way i dont think you have a bad bone in you i dont only like you but i admire your kindness and humor when im around you my lungs set fire i wish i had a social tudor
well anyway i enjoy your smile and your mind i hope one day we can be something im not sure theres anything in me admirable to find except maybe that i like you as much as a hot wing but youve got me smitten and i cant get up and now that all of this has been written i hope you never look it up
I'm not sure how the human brain works. I know we've all got our ticks and our quirks and lately, i think I'm going crazy i have moments where everything goes hazy they say there's nothing wrong with me that I'm fine and compared to others i should feel lucky.
But i cant feel lucky when my head spins when it feels like my skin is covered in pins i lay in bed all day just screaming and i cant even tell when im only dreaming so don't tell me that im perfectly fine when youve only ever experinced cloud nine
i used to tell myself that i was okay i was just tired and the world wont always sway but lately things have been getting bad ive been touchy and lashing out at my mom and dad and when asked whats wrong i just cry for so long
you see, i dont even know its like my brain stopped growing a long time ago just a small inconvenience is like an attack that needs an airborne strike dont touch me. i might bite please know its just out of fright
im just scared and trying to get by but right now i really wanna die last night around nine-thirty i think my mom started to hate me she looked at me in disgust she wouldnt touch me. i think she feared i would combust
you might have guessed by now im not doing too well my self pity is starting to smell ive got to get back to playing my part acting happy, making my art and if i dont purposefully drown myself in my pool ill see you guys in school