Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
This isn't a story
about how I overcame a past demon
or how I beat the bully with the power of friendship,
because you and I both know
that didn't happen.  
I don't want this to be another sad teenaged story
about how my boyfriend broke up with me
or how my best friend kissed my crush.
This is a story about how
I was born an unlucky kid
who I was blessed with
tears instead of smiles,
who has more love for other
than for herself,
who is more willing to die
than to live.
I'm just an unlucky kid
who debates whether to live life
or to end it.
The one bedroom apartment;
where your drinking habits only scare your cat.
and somewhere in-between
i'm okay and it's fine
i lost myself.
slipping through the cracks.
*
Behind these metaphors
I want you literally
{The Wombats}
I dig a hole in myself
and fill it with words
 Aug 2015 Isabel Rose Barrueta
NV
IT'S 3:58 IN THE MORNING.
AND GOD, I HATE HOW MUCH I MISS YOU.

ACTUALLY, NO.
I LIE.

I HATE HOW MUCH YOU DON'T DESERVE IT.
 Aug 2015 Isabel Rose Barrueta
NV
MOST DAYS,
I FEEL LIKE A HOLE,*
*TRYING TO FIND A PLACE THAT WON'T **** ANYBODY ELSE INTO THIS EMPTINESS.
Next page