weights on eyes
dragging shades down over windows
bringing darkness into my home
ghostly thoughts swirl through my skull
building, building, until they overflow
bursting through the windows
sending pure sorrow spilling
down

I'm officially leaving HP. I'm about to graduate high school, go to college, start a new chapter of my life... And I feel that  leaving this site behind is what's best for me. I may join another site, who knows? But for now, I'm writing in my head. Everything sounds so much better there anyway.

We always took nap time for granted.

I wear messy buns to school
And a silver cross neck less my best friend gave me
I enjoy strumming the same four chords on a pink ukulele  
And enjoy staying late after track just to hang out with the coaches
I am now always listening to Jimmy Buffet and putting on sun screen
And am obsessed with plants, especially my new garden
I pray the divine mercy novena prayers at night
And I spend my school days looking up future mission trips, going on ifunny and taking personality quizzes
Catch me shipping superheroes and being obsessed with Deadpool
Or reading the newest Louis T conspiracies
I spend my free time in the hot tub or on a jet ski
My favorite time of day is around 7:30- 8 AM when the sun rays turn bright yellow
My favorite season is spring because I love green a lot now
I'd say I'm fairly happy, but am prone to depressed moments throughout a day
My family is tense and awkward but I love them all
And my life is very enjoyable

Spinning around my room at 2 AM
Empty wine bottle in hand
Huge smile on my face
Cool breeze passing through the drapes
This is what it's like to be alive
This is what it's like to feel brand new

Now the user is being used
What a pleasant turn of events

If I could write a poem by just throwing a bunch of imagery
on a page, then I would. And I do. For example, this weekend
was pounding floods filling up homes and clogging minds
thunderously down hills, lightning and fear, and then it was
fire in the sky and heat, steaming the water back up,
sunlight, sunburns, tank tops, sitting on concrete
running through the mud, staying up late, plans not made,
snowballs, dried throats, black coffee, red skies, board games
grass to wet to sit on, sleepy eyes, the first hint of summer, trees blooming,
washing our legs in the lake, school canceled, getting work done, with friends forever.
Soon I will be free. Am I not already free?
We talk about our futures and sing songs like we're
all gonna make it. Have we made it? Will we be alright?
Time rolls onward and forward and seasons pass and change
and I have my own car now. I will be eighteen years old soon.
I hope God stays with me. I hope I stay with God.

Rumpled grey sheets
Slow sleepy smiles
Breath warm from dreaming
Pillows cradling thoughts  
Fingers intertwined with stars
Soft lips pressed against dry
Say we'll never have to leave this place
This heaven we've found in each other's arms

Hazy stars and steep flat roads and a steamy car nearby
while the dim red butts buzzed around us
like bees, held in our hands, stinging our souls
and it wasn't beautiful. It was very ugly, and as
greenish smoke filled my lungs, I forget
things that I try not to remember, and now looking back
now that I've cried and repented and apologized,
it wasn't beautiful. It was humanity in our brutest
forms, begging for something higher, and we sank
low, low, low into our animalistic needs,
holding each other and falling and collapsing
into a car and hiding and chewing gum and falling
asleep with pleasantly buzzing senses and
staying awake at the same time and avoiding
eye contact with my parents the next morning.
It wasn't beautiful. I don't know how else to say it.