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Note to Self-
Feed the possums in the yard
apart from the ghosts
in your mind.
Purge it back up
and flush it.
Descry it as
nothing more
than your *****
and spit.
Do not forget
to forget.
Note to Self-
You matter.
You matter.
You ******* matter to someone.
Quit feeling like ****,
you ******* matter to someone.
Note to Self-
Might as well give it up
or start over.
You've been starving
the possums in the yard
and your ghosts are polluted
with gluttony
as well as every other sin.
Knocking on the window to your mouth,
you continue to relapse
and welcome them back in again.
Note to Self.
we collided that night
and caused a supernova
since then, it has been hell or heaven
no in between, no turning back
i want this forever
not just for a year or two
and i think you do too
but forever is a long time
and we don't know what forever looks like
but we know that people change
and feelings sometimes fade
i hope ours don't
i hope we fall for each other every day
like raindrops on window panes
like leaves from tall trees
like tears from newborn babies
i hope we fall, but never falter
because that fire in my soul
is alive and well
since we caused that supernova
i've been burning inside for you
and i just hope you have
the same sensation in your organs
i can only hope you feel the same way
and if you don't, i'll understand, i'll swallow it
like prescription pills
Let me:
Drink this beer to forget the taste of your sweet lips, drowning it with a bitter edge.

Smoke this cigarette to replace the air gone at times you took my breath away
while the nicotine becomes my lungs' drug to remove your scent from my system

*all these vices to forget and end the life planned with you
Unfailingly unsure and uneasy at the thought of a God but I begged the sky for direction last night.
Bawling on the shoulder of the Big Dipper like it's my long lost mother,
biding my time for an answer and scrutinizing for a sign,
I still can hear nothing in return.
I'm prying open it's mouth to hear it say that I am not bad and I am not slipping away
but she is silent and
I can feel that I am.
Looking down towards the ground I cannot help but think that
this is the fate that my stars have left me;
between home and where I live.
SO I SURRENDER.
I'm giving up the bottle before the bottle gives up on me.
Wanting something more than the intoxicated chemical romances and I've grown sick and tired of chewing people up and spitting them back out.
Wanting something more for my own sake because I don't want to be a good for nothing any further and I've grown sick and tired of killing myself just like you've killed me in your brain.
Unfailingly unsure and uneasy at the thought of "Me" but I begged the sky for direction last night.
I want to be angry
to lash out
to punch the wall
to make everyone feel
what i feel
but for some reason
my body won't get angry
my hands won't roll into fists
my attitude won't lash out
and my words speak nothing but kindness
The leaves are changing their colors like I am changing my name.
No longer thriving, bright, and sturdy on my branch; I am now dark and desolate on the ground.
Making one with perished grass and the worms because it feels like "us" outside and I just don't have the energy to grow anymore.
Renaming myself "Autumn" because I am nothing but dried up leaves on your bedroom floor.
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