I press the lit cigarette up to my lips and inhale.
I felt my lungs close up not due to the smoke filling them, but due to the aching pain in my chest and the pain I have in my stomach that began in my head.
It’s happening again.
Over and over.
My head is spinning while I’m trying to focus on my rapid breathing.
I look at the lit cigarette between my shaking fingers and realize it’s already begun.
Another panic attack.
I try to ground myself lookin at my surroundings, searching anywhere besides the images in my own head.
It isn’t working I keep repeating to myself.
It isn’t working.
It isn’t working.
As I search my mind desperately for anything that could distract myself from feeling like I’m being swallowed up, I begin to think of him.
I begin to reminisce.
I found comfort thinking about his beautiful chestnut brown eyes.
My hands stopped shaking when I began to think about his perfect jaw line you only see in movies.
I feel myself falling deeper and deeper into this memory of him.
I think about his smile, his laugh.
As I dream off I begin to wake up and that is when I realized.
I’m alright, it’s over.
I can breathe, I’m not shaking, I’m alright.
That’s also when I realized that you, are my comfort.
Angelina Jan 31
I remember laying there on that bed the bed with one pillow directly in the middle of its rectangular shaped mattress. I laid there frozen in my own tracks and mind.
It was the first time I was t
ouched in those special hidden places.
Those forbidden places that were never touched before.
I beg you please be careful.
For I am afraid I will shadder under your fingertips into your palm.
Angelina Jan 31
I often look for you online.
A name, a place, a date.
Something to let me know that you haven’t hurt anybody else.
Or even some proof that I’m not crazy that I can still remember your finger tips on my skin.
I have never found anything, until now.
I stumble upon your obituary.
I stumble upon your name. Your age.
I stumble upon your thoughtful words from friends and family.
But I can’t seem to find the part in your story of what you did to me.
I stumble upon the names of your kids.
I stumble upon your wife’s name and her loving thoughts of you.
If only they knew the sick things you did to me.
If only nobody turned they’re heads to look the other way when you did those terrible things to me.
I might have stumbled upon your obituary, but I found my closure.
Angelina Dec 2017
Her pure, and untouched body.
Silk smooth to the touch, and unharmed.
He had been smoking again,
The strange man.
You can smell the musk of cheap liquor and tabacoo on his neck.
His fingers slowly touch her body as if just lit cigarettes.
Fingertips pressed into her skin as if he was putting cigarettes out on an ashtray  except her body,
Was the ashtray.
Angelina Apr 2017
These thoughts in my head,
Wanting to not feel this way anymore.
Needing for somebody to just reach inside, and find every little thing that I need right now..
But it's 3 am and I'm still awake.
I'm still laying in my bed staring at my clear boring wall.
Wondering if anybody truly knows how alone I am,
         and feel.
Angelina Apr 2017
I wish I could have said more to you.
I wish the thoughts in my head would have traveled threw my lips and out to you.               When you were alive.
I count every day that is dragging by, remembering every single thing you ever did for me..
I visited your grave stone the other day to find something absurd.
There are rules to visiting your parted loved one.

1. You may not bring real flowers to leave at they're stone.
2. We will not clean the grave stone's off so if you wish to see the names of the beloved ones you have to get down on your knees and wash off all the dirt and grass.
3. If a grave stone is fallen over, we will not fix it or pick it up.
Absurd.
I have forever wished there was more I could say to this person oh so special to me. I cannot even bring her grave real flowers? I have forever wished there were more times I could have told this person how much I love her? So when I go see her grave stone, I get down on my hands and knees, and I clean off her grave stone, giving her the respect she deserves. And yes, I bring her real flowers.
Florence Center
Angelina Apr 2017
You passed down your deep endless hazel eyes.
You passed down those chunky love filled cheeks.
You even passed down things I never would wish upon anybody.
I inherited your bipolar disorder and your anger.
I inherited the group selection of "more than likely going to turn out like her parents."
Statistics say I have more of a chance of falling down the same path both of my parents once did.
Two parents one daughter.
Parents resulting to drugs and alcohol.
Everybody is worried that I would have "that" gene.
I have seen first hand what all these things that YOU passed onto me can do and ruin.
Please, please take them back..
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