Coughing like a cold start
Wheezing like a bag
Spitting through the back door
Have another ***
Doing the dying thing

Filling up an ash-tray
Feeding a fat face
Drinking cans of lager
Getting in a state
Doing the dying thing

Reading ****** papers
**** and bingo cards
Have another lager
Another pound of lard
Doing the dying thing

Sitting watching game shows
Rattling paper bags
Looking bored and farting
How the sofa sags
Doing the dying thing

Working for a *******
For very little pay
Yes boss and no boss
For eight hours a day
Doing the dying thing

Safely empty headed
Dull of thought and eye
Ignorant and vacant
There are many ways to die
Doing the dying thing

                                       By Phil Roberts

Dear ex boyfriend. I am not your safety net to fall back on whenever girls don't want to talk to you. I have a life of my own to live.
Dear high school boys. I am not a doll for you to play with when you're bored then toss aside before someone notices. God forbid boys are seen playing with a doll right?
Dear mother. I am not your punching bag to verbally and physically abuse when you get irritated. Sorry for being born I guess.
Dear grandmother. I am not nor will I ever be the perfect christian girl you want me to be. The heart wants what it wants.
Dear self. I am not paper so don't cut me, I am not in court so don't judge me, I am not evil so don't hate me... Please?

It hurts so badly.
I have cut, I have bled, I have broken bones, I have been through more deaths than anyone should.
But nothing has hurt this much.
Nothing has hurt more than loving you.
You are the reason I wake up every morning.
You're also the reason I cry all night long.
You told her I don't know what you're dealing with.
Little do you know, I worry about you more than anything.
I cry myself to sleep trying to figure out why I cant help you.
But you wouldn't know that because you've never asked.
That's okay though, you're my favorite cross to bare.
You're the only problem that I love to deal with.
Because I love you.
And nothing hurts more than loving you.

He makes me smile, when no one else can.
He makes me laugh when I'm in the middle of a breakdown.
He tells me about his problems, and I tell him mine.
I've told him all of my secrets.
It’s clear to me that he is someone I can trust.
He's different from all the rest.
He is so much more difficult than anyone else.
He puts up with my dumbness and numbness.
I've been mean to him, and he doesn't care.
Every day he lifts me up higher,
When I've been pushed down my whole life.
He is always there for me when I need him to be.
He sticks around even though he could do better.
He tells me that he loves me, he doesn't know why, but he does.
I say it back.
When I am with him butterflies flutter inside.
I get all girlish and I don't know why.
When he kisses me I feel sparks.
It’s hard to know what love really is at this age,
But if it is anything at all, I feel it.
With him I feel love.

Dear Idiot,
I love the way your smile makes you look like an elephant.
I love how when you dance you look ridiculous.
I love they way you embarrass yourself daily.
I love how you think we’re friends.
I love how hilarious it is when you try to act cool.
I love how you have no friends.
Haha.

I'm sick of missing you.
It's been over a month.
But I still long for you.
It's killing me inside.
I know I can't have you back.
I don't want you back.
I'm sick of dreaming.
Because every time I dream...
I dream of you.
I don't want to close my eyes anymore.
You're always there, with me or another.
I know these dreams can't come true.
I don't want them to.
I'm sick of the memories.
It's not that they're bad memories.
It's not that at all.
But they are of you.
And I don't want them anymore.

When she says she loves you,
That you'll always be her babygirl,
That she'll never leave your side,
She's probably lying.