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If you’ve never **** your pants,
I don’t suggest you try it,

And if you have a sweet tooth,
I don’t suggest you diet,

Because pants are expensive,
And junk food is delicious,

And honestly grownups ******* themselves is absolutely ridiculous.
I’ve always wanted to write a poem about bowel movements cause I’m super immature and think **** jokes are the epitome of humor. Also I’m still 12 inside.
When I was four my brother use to catch me snakes, and my sister would buy me donuts, my dad would take me fishing, and my mom would sing to me.

When I was five, my brother could only call me to say he missed me, my sister would write me letters, my dad would drink until the wee hours of the morning,
And my mom was just gone.

I remember sitting in the court house wondering what was happening

“He can have her”

And that was the last time my family was together.

My dad raised me on his own.
A single alcoholic father, raising a little girl
Was not something people were use too.

We lived in a small town, and so they would whisper about the mother who left me behind, and the father that was always drunk.

But even at 5 years old I didn’t mind being alone. My father loved me with all he had, I knew that in my bones.

So the years passed, just the two of us, in a house with empty bedrooms but not empty hearts. I became accustomed to taking care of my fathers hangovers, and walked myself to school, and every Mother’s Day I made my dad a card and picked my neighbors flowers to put in a vase. Though I wondered where my mother was, and why my siblings lived somewhere else, I never once wished my life where different. It was all I knew.
I learned to catch my own snakes, and my dad would buy me donuts, and take me fishing, and sing for me.

From time to time I’d cry silently in my bedroom, wondering why they left. But as I got older I understood that not every family is meant to stay together, that not everyone who has kids is ready to raise them, and that people can fall out of love.

These were all hard lessons, and I learned them early on, but I wouldn’t change a thing, it made me who I am.

My father did finally get sober, and my mother came back into my life, my brother had children, they hang off my arms when I visit, my sister calls me every week, I even have a new brother who looks up to me.

The three paper routes I had as a kid to help my father pay the bills taught me the importance of hard work, the long nights my dad partied taught me to appreciate a good nights sleep, and my family’s separation taught me to cherish what you have.

Nothing’s promised, anything can be taken, so live your life without regrets.
And don’t forget to tell your dad you love them, tell your mother your forgive her, and hug your siblings as often as you can.
I got a tattoo for my best friend,
It’s a tombstone,
And every time someone sees it they tell me “I’m so sorry for your loss”

I say that’s okay, she’s alive, we just have a morbid sense of humor,
And they look at me strangely,
Like there’s something wrong with me,
And I always reply,
If I can’t laugh at death, how can I live without fear of dying?

We are not promised tomorrow,
There’s a chance this second could be our last,
My lungs could refuse to **** in air,
Your heartbeat could stutter out at any moment,

Why worry about that ticking tick?
Let me laugh about it now,
So when death does come for me, just like he will come for you,
I can greet him as an old friend,
Instead of the monster we all dream of.
Side note, she has a matching tombstone tattoo.
I’ve always hated goodbyes,
But not when it comes too you.
I asked him, “what is a bird to a worm”

He looked at me and grinned “Food”

I wrinkled my nose,  “but worms don’t eat birds”

He laughed at my innocence and replied, “they do when they’re dead, and one day they’ll eat you too”
I buried one friend last August,
I buried another one last month,
For a year I’ve struggled to help another friend over come addition and failed,
Another person: who kept me sane through my wild teenage years, buried his girlfriend recently, and in turn he buried his feelings with drugs and alcohol, we celebrated his one year of sobriety only a few months ago, no one ever mentioned how morbid your 20’s could be.

So inclusion I think pharmaceutical company’s should have to include “ heartbreak” on their labels, as a side effect too opioids.
I know death is just another part of life, but I never thought I’d have to deal with so much of it before I’d even lived a quarter of a century. Reality is a harsh mistress.
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