As I catch my last breath,
I wish to speak my last words.
Taking the opportunity before death
That this message would be heard.

I'm sorry friends families and foes,
My body is like of a decaying rose,
To the one I love, I will miss you the most,
From the day we've met till you gave me my daily dose.

Scurrying away, the life of a diseased one.
Soon enough, I will be a deceased man.
I feel the chill, the Death has come,
And all the pain will soon be gone.

Oh please don't cry, I want you to be happy.
Because someday, somehow you would be able to see me,
Once that day comes, we'll eat, dance and party
But now, smiling is all you can do for me.

As these words' coming to an end, I would say you this.
Don't forget about me, if you please,
But don't weep, be happy and have peace
For that's a dying man's only wish.

bring me a slice of the sky,
a bucket full of sea water,
a handful of the earth's soil,
and a breath full of hope,

for I would pray to unseen powers,
to fuse and mold,
humanity with nature again,
rinsing the sins of both,

and we shall learn to respect,
the age-old tryst,
which existed,
between the gods, we don't remember,
and the humans we once were.

If anything awkwardness
Is an attractive attribute
A lot of people find enduring

And I am awkward,
A social pariah
I stutter and hardly make eye contact

I run my hands through my hair,
Bite the skin from my lip
Trip over what I mean when I speak
And over thin air

I am awkward
I am me

There is no such thing as a child of an alcoholic. There are children, and then there are alcoholics. One will never harmonize with the other.

Because alcoholics are never parents. They are shells, empty casings of love mixed with a burning taste of whiskey.

They are echoes of slurred, “Goodnight, I love you.” and “See you in the morning.” Each word filled with love, but blinded by the haze of liquor, so strong it fills your eyes with tears.

But most importantly, a child of an alcoholic will never be a child. No matter their age, they have gained the experience of those five times their age. They have watched life end with each tip of the bottle, but begin again when the sun breaks through their window.

I read stories about children who spend their days without a care in the world. And as a child, I wanted nothing more than that for myself. I wanted the carelessness, not the impossible burden of responsibility and secrecy that I held, hand in hand with resentment and hatred for the people who raised me.

There is no such thing as a child of an alcoholic. It’s not that we don’t exist— we do. But a child will never be a child when their parents can never be a parent.

I’m 5’9”, loud and strong. 

I’ve got big hair, perfect brows and a straight back.

I radiate confidence, sexuality and metaphorical ***** as my curvy hourglass figure walks with purpose down the street.

My attitude says “There’s nothing I can not do.”

My eyes say “You wanna fight? I’m ready.”

To them, I’m a lioness. 

I protect all that is mine — except from myself. 

Behind the facade, I am small. 

Behind my words, I am afraid. 

Behind my sunglasses, my eyes are wet. 

And under my luxury lingerie, I am naked, just like my soul is when I’m writing.

I’m not who they think I am, are you?

I have disabled myself,
Thinking about you.
Forty three self induced bruises
to the head, to the head
Forty five, forty six

I got that vibe,
That feeling from you.
I start my appointment
At eight thirty two,
Thirty three, thirty four.

Forty eight, forty nine.

It is not the cure
That will help this,
But only you.
Thirty five, thirty six.

Fifty two, fifty three.

So I try to get you
Out of my head...

Fifty two, fifty three.
So that I can be free.

I have disabled myself
Thinking about you,
But now that I am free,
I don't know what to do.