I'm in
English class and I'm supposed
to be
reading some
story
about Sir Gawain,
but I think
that poetry
and
music
is teaching me
more.

I keep writing about
him. But I don't know what else
to do.
I want somebody else.
More than that. I want
somebody else
to want
me.

I thought about
him
again today and then
I thought of that one saying,
"never give up on someone you can't go a day without thinking about"
and i wanted to scream
*******
to that thought.
because sometimes
those people,
the ones you always think of,
are exactly the ones that need to be
given up
on

I live with my sister's boyfriend and my sister.
I'm thankful to have a place
to stay.
But sometimes, when they get so
cutesy I want to
cry and scream and yell.
I want it too.

"everything that drowns me makes me wanna fly"
everything- all of it, not just some
that drowns me- it's pushing me down, stomping on me, trying to get rid of me
makes me- it's the force behind these actions
wanna fly- going higher, doing more, being more

and it's all because you tried to make me fall
thank you

Lazy Sundays spent
poetry writing
meal planning
kitchen cleaning
school dreading
procrastinating
pinteresting
way way way too much
thinking

You know what I'm tired of? Living in a society where we have to hide. That's all we ******* do and I think that those who swear they don't are faking too. Because look around, ask someone how they are, give a stranger a smile. What you're gonna receive back is called politeness. And that's fake as ****. My sister tells me that she doesn't always get why so many people ask me for advice because I'm so blunt with them and I tell her that's exactly why. People don't know it but we need to be called out. We need somebody who isn't gonna put up with our *******. Sure, I'll tell you if you're being over dramatic or when it's enough, but I'm also gonna give you a hug and let you cry it all out. I'm not gonna judge you for being human and I think people get and appreciate that. They want that. They want truth and bluntness and ******* realness, for god's sake. It gets so exhausting walking around with a smile on your face and bright eyes with unseen tears hidden behind them. Give it up. And see, here's the thing. I'm no better. I'm fake too. I hide behind this ****** facade every day and I don't want to. So I get it, I get why we pretend. And I'm not saying let's all stop immediately, because that's impossible, but let's at least recognize what we're doing. Let's at least let those close to us be real. That's a step. It's a step. Take it.

For some reason,
recently,
I've been missing him to the point of
exhaustion.
The thing is, I know
that I don't want to go back.
But what am I supposed to do when forward
is invisible
and the
right-now
is so
hopeless.
Love looks so far away and I'm wishing to bring it
closer. Only
wishing.
I'm too
broken-hearted to go out and
get it. But it's
screaming at me
to
stop
stop
stop
pushing it farther while wishing it closer.
"You can't have both"
it whispers. And I,
I
cry.

Sometimes what pains me
the most
is knowing that no matter what,
whether I allow myself to have what I want or give it up for others,
nobody is going to be
satisfied.

I have a friend who
I know
has feelings for me and it's ridiculous
because he's
17 and never been
kissed.
And I want to scream,
run!,
don't turn back.
Whatever it is you see in me is
false.
Stay the way you are, because it's naive and it's innocent and
I would give
anything
to be like you.

Hey ya'll.
If you need a friend,
message me. Just lonely tonight.

I am writing on this computer so that I don't
write
on my arms.

The first time I saw him I was playing monopoly with some friends. He said hi and that he didn't want to talk to us because he wanted to go play video games. I later found out he said this to look cool. Later, I wandered into the living room and sat on the couch to talk to Kendall, really wanting to talk to him. Jordan. We talked and joked and I started to fall. He came to church with me the next morning. He read my poetry. Later he would tell me that he fell in love with me because we wrote about the same things. I think he was my salvation. We lived in the same building, we spent every day of the first three months together. We made love on trains and in abandoned buildings long before we moved to a bed. He asked me to be "his boyfriend" at a gay bar. I used to dream that we would joke about that into old age. Somewhere along the way we got lost. He started pushing, no, shoving me away. I kissed another boy. I tried to end my life. He pulled me back together, said he still loved me. Pinky promised forever with me. Before this last, final breakup he broke up with me multiple times. The day that we ended I knew. And I asked. "You're gonna break up with me, aren't you?" His silence told me the truth. We made love, played a game, ate dinner. Tried to act like nothing was wrong until he left. And then I cried. February 3, 2014. We promised to still be friends, but you can't really promise that. I realize things now. He never was gonna get a job. He made me feel bad about being who I am. He wants something that he doesn't even know what it is. He's not everything. He's not perfect and we were both so unhappy, but even recognizing that as reality doesn't make things easier. My mom left at the same time. I feel so abandoned. I don't know what I do wrong, but I want to fix it. I wish others would stay. I need somebody to stay.

Tonight.
I miss
being loved and
held.
Tonight.
I would go back.
I know I wouldn't really be happy.
But it would be a change from this,
this fog
I feel

I'm the one who
always
***** things
up.

I am a ****** up ******* **** useless excuse for a human being.
I should never have been brought into this world.
Everything hurts and I just want
it all to
stop.
I'm so tired.
I hate myself.
I hate myself so ******* much

I want to be held and I want to cry and have somebody kiss the tears from my eyes and when I say that I'm worthless I want you to kiss the words out of my mouth.

I don't want to
have
to be strong
for my
sisters.
I can't do it all the
time.
And who's being strong for
me?
And who's listening to me when I
cry?

He left me notes.
Two. That's what I've found.
I messaged him on facebook tuesday.
Why can I not be strong?
I did it again.
Messaged him.
Just said that I found the notes and sorry and thank you.
And I asked him not to
respond.
Sometimes I miss him a lot.
And sometimes not at all.
Sometimes I hate him.
But always I love him.

I had a
good day
today

I read through my poems and started crying and I am tired. I wanted to cry earlier when my youngest sister left but I couldn't. i don't want to be the strong one. I'm not the strong one. Why does life turn out so differently than we wanted? I'm supposed to be doing homework, but how the **** am I supposed to care about some **** heiroglyphic assignment when my world ******* falls apart every night? I've always been so open with my emotions and for the past 5 weeks and 2 days I've been hiding behind a facade. A smile and a joke and a laugh. Low cut shirts and hints to boys and talks about *** equality. And I just want somebody to grab me and say "cut the *******" and i just want somebody to pick me up at two in the morning because they know I'm awake. I just want somebody to care and somebody that I can laugh with but also cry with. I'm sitting here, crying alone and it's so **** lonely and I'd give anything to make it stop. Anything to make it stop. When is all of this gonna get better? I'm begging you to tell me. Please please tell me.

I want to beg everyone,
anyone,
to come over.
Spend the night with me.
Help me chase away my
demons.
It's gets lonely. Being
alone. And tonight I want it
gone.
Tonight I want it
gone.

It's hard and easy to have a heart that feels so
much.
I fall in love with a snap of fingers.
I want to run outside and dance in the rain.
Get soaked to the bones.
I think I'm going to head to the park tonight.
Swing until the rhythmic patterns calm my ever shaking heart.
I'll eat toast and jam.
Write poetry.
Pray for love.
The wind is blowing outside.
It is both calling me and pushing me away.
Is that what others think I do?

I want to
be loved.
Please.
Will you
love
me?

Sitting here with my
phone,
laptop,
Smirnoff.
Waiting for everyone to go
to bed.
Ready to bathe and write and not-sleep.
Ready for it all to
go away.

I just want to go
to sleep.
But I hate the dreams and the
waking up.
Which is worse?

When guys ask what I like
(in bed)
I say, rough.
And they usually smile or high five
(i got a high five yesterday)
They don't know that I want
them to
claw my back until
it bleeds
(oh baby, more)
I want my wrists pinned down
(mark them as a souvenir)
Bite my lips
my neck
my body
(i do it, but it's so much better from you)
For some
reason
it hurts
so badly when I ****
(but you shove it anyways and i silently say thanks)
Physical pain is so much better
(yeah, i like it rough)

I cut off all my hair in November.
It's just hair. It doesn't make that
much of a difference to who you are. He said.
But he doesn't know.
I am so tired of being what everyone expects of me.
I cut off my hair. And now I talk in
class, and I drink
beer, and I hang out with
friends.
I can't sleep.
I don't sleep.
I'm not so beautiful anymore.
Although, I do get laid more.
It's not always what the surface shows.
I wasn't just cutting off my hair.
I was getting out of my skin.
Running away from myself.
And I'm getting farther and farther but I don't know
if it's better
or worse.

It's always hardest
when
I'm counting the hours
until
daylight.

to my sister, Karen, I know you just threw up your dinner. Please stop. I would give my life to erase the scars from your body and the pain from your stomach. You are beautiful and I wish  I looked like you. I know. Life is hard and it never feels good enough, but that's okay. It doesn't have to be. I'll hold you and hug you and love you. I love you. I am so sorry for calling you fat when we were little. Sometimes I think it's my fault and I just want you to be okay. I just want you to be okay. You are so beautiful. More beautiful than anything I can think of, inside and out. I love you.
2. to my sister, Destiny, stop pushing us away. I miss you and I wish I could build a home for you. I love you even when you become really mean and I cry and yell at you. You can be honest with me. I'm not gonna leave and I know that's hard to believe but it's true. I would do anything for you. I love you so much. You need to believe and accept it.
3. to my sister, Amy, it's okay to grieve. She's your mom. Cry as much as you want. It's okay. I miss you and I wish you still lived here. I know it ***** and it's hard but I am so so so proud of you. More than you know. You inspire me and I love you.
4. to my mom, do you remember? You abandoned us. And that was the last straw. I honestly don't even like calling you mom anymore, because you aren't. We need you. I hate you so much. ******* ******* *******. I'm scared that you're not gonna be okay if I hate you but at the same time I don't really care anymore. Do you remember abusing me? And trying to **** yourself and scaring me? Why? What did I ever do? I just wanted you to love me.
5. to my dad, i'm scared i'm turning into you. I'm drinking too much and I like it. I just want all the sad to go away and it and *** helps. I don't want to be like you. You're never there when we need you and you think we're supposed to be fine. We're kids! I want to be a teenager, but you stole that from me. I don't believe you anymore. Isn't that sad? I miss you daddy. Where did you go? You're not the same person anymore. Why?

I think sometimes I like to mess up because then people get mad at me.
And I deserve to be gotten mad at.

I like the song, “Someone Else” because it’s how I feel. Like exactly.
It’s all, “if you’re looking for love know that love don’t live here anymore. He left with my heart”
If you’re trying to find pretty then you need to look somewhere else”
I think she cut off her hair for a lot of the same reasons I did.
“I've turned into someone else”
Yep. She knows it.

When I was little and in a private school we memorized this verse one time. Something about how if you hate your brother than you can’t love god and so I refused to use the word hate. Not even when we were supposed to say it in the verse. Funny now, because I use it pretty often. I hate him and her and mostly me. I swore to never drink. Ya know. Growing up with an alcoholic dad and all, but I broke that too. Lots. And I kind of get why he does it. It’s like when you’re in a fog or on a **** ton of pills or you get tired of feeling nothing but one emotion and you just want to be different. My mom sat at the kitchen table one day with a knife against her arm and I remember never being more scared. No that’s a lie. I was more scared the day she wouldn't wake up. But I promised that I would never be like her. I’m not. But sometimes, I am. People are so fickle. We promise and we swear and we believe. But it’s so silly because those things we don’t know what we mean. We don’t see all the baseballs that life is throwing in our face and we know that those bumper stickers, “Be who you wanted to be five years ago” are terrifying, because that self would ******* hate us, but they wouldn't say the word hate and they wouldn't drown their not-hate in a bottle of beer and they wouldn't try so **** hard. It’s ridiculous. When I was little I knew lots. I knew that hate and beer and mean mommys were bad, but I didn't know that sometimes they were good. That sometimes they are liberating. And that maybe, my five-year ago-self would hate me, but I think my right-now-self would think my old me is a dumb naive *****.

my mom showing up at my graduation
my sister's eating disorder and her cutting
my other sister never not being a *****
not finding love
being ugly
nobody caring
actually being a slob
what if i never do enough

It's almost 1
My coffee just finished
I have poetry to write, a kitchen to clean, homework to finish
It'll be okay

Poetry
Headache
Heartbreak
Fix me
**** me
Bruise me
Abuse me
Love me
Scream
Drown
Bleed
Write
Live
Forget
Die
Go away

I spent days, weeks, months, years
picking the petals off
a flower.
Loves me, loves me not.
I could lie. Say
I never do that anymore,
but I want
to land on a yes.
But it's been 18 years.
And my **** living room floor isn't just
strewn with ******* petals.
No. It's
filled to the ******* rim and it's
spilling out the ******* door.
****. ****. ****.
**** it all!!!!
I don't want to do this anymore.
I'm scared and I'm shaking and I think
I'm trying
not not not
to have a
panic attack.
Please.
What is so wrong with me
that I
never land on a

loves me.

He loved her.



                                                                                                            She loved him too.



                                                  That was enough.

Do they all leave or do I push them?
I say that nobody is dependable that all go at some point.
Look at me.
My mom, an abusive sociopathic ***** and my dad, a narcissistic drunk.
No wonder my love life is sour.
No wonder I don't trust.
I'd rather **** and be done then love and be hurt.
Betrayal.
Do you think it's possible that I'll ever love and not be hurt?
Do I betray others?
I told him. Jordan. I told him at the beginning about me. About how everybody leaves and it's because of me.
But he gave me pinkie promises and listened to me when I cried.
And I maybe lost my virginity to him. And we spent most nights of our year plus relationship together. And then my mom skipped town and he broke up with me.
Why did you guys leave?
I'll be better. I promise. I promise. *******. I promise. Please please please please.  
And I pulled a razor against my skin and I had been good for so long.
Guess I betrayed myself too.
I have the word **** on my wrist. It used to say love.
But that left too.

Yesterday was the day
where
I daydreamed about
you
crawling back to me.
I would say,
"I'm happy. Yeah, I'm sad too, but I'm also happy. And I don't want to give it up."
But.
I'm about to start a *** of coffee.
I don't think I can hold the tears back much longer.
Nope. Now they're falling.
And I.
I'm weak.
I used to want you to hit me. But you never did.
You never did.

Will anyone
ever
love me? And
if they
do
will I be able to
love them back
without
destroying them?

Every guy that I
****
is another reminder that
we are
never
never
never
getting back
together.
And this time.
It's my choosing.

I want
love

I'm sitting here
reading poetry and listening to
"please cheer me up"
music.
It's not
working.
I'm texting a boy. Gonna get
laid. I just read
a poem about
a girl who liked
pain during *******.
And I'm thinking
me too.
So tired.
So tired of love.
It only gives up.
***. Well that can't hurt.
Unless you want it to.
And that, it's a pain
but one I
control.
Deserve.
Want.
Bite me and break me and bruise me and
show me what I am made of.
I don't know. What is it?
Tomorrow I'll brag.
"I'm getting the D. Yeah. ****. Women want it to."
(I'm a feminist)
Tonight, I'll cry. Tonight I'll break.
This weekend.
Then I'll **** until I can't feel anything
but your sweat against mine
and the breaking of my skin.

Writers lie
we create works of fiction and we pour our souls into it.
It's no wonder that we lie.
About the silliest things.
I can't stop it.
I am so passionate.
About everything.
Maybe
that contributes too.
But I don't know.
I like to blame it on
being a
writer.

For some reason
when I think of
the
texture
of hope I keep seeing
a woven basket.
I have no idea why.
I guess maybe because they're easily
broken
like hope.
Or maybe
it's not a metaphor.
Maybe that's just what
hope
feels like
to me.

There's this guy at my school and he
likes me.
He's not my type.
He's naiive and not tall or skinny and he's nice.
But he likes me.
And I want to be like.
I'm not who you
think I
am.
I am a *****.
I am a liar.
I am a poet.
I am not
not
not
not.
I don't know what his thought process is.
God.
I want to be
ya know,
right.
Funny and nerdy and cute.
Maybe
I am
those things.
But I'm also the reverse.
And my humor is mean and dry.
And my ADD kicks in making it hard to play Magic.
And cute? Hell, no. I wish.
I don't know
what
I'm doing.
There's no way I would ever get in a
relationship.
I'd ruin him.
Literally.
I want to be
what others need.
But I'm just
me

When I hear the shower running after dinner and know that my sister is throwing up
2. Realizing that I am alone and I can't run forever
3. Knowing that I'm never gonna be good enough
4. There are other people hurting and it can't be stopped
5. I'm Giving Up On You by It's a Big World
6. Poetry
7. My parents
8. Seeing him and knowing that it's not him I want, just love
9. I don't know if I'm strong enough
10. Everybody leaves

Forget
Feel
Stay awake
Stay alive
Not self harm
Find love and feel loved
Breath
Think
Not think
Express myself
Cry
Hear the keys click clack
Smile
Feel relief
Be real
Do the things I'm scared of

What am I doing? It's after midnight and I'm up. I have school at 7:55 in the morning. I don't want to sleep. Nightmares. Plus, I keep waking up panicking that this couch is smooshing me. I'm drinking coffee, mixed with hot chocolate, but coffee still. I won't sleep. I'm so tired of life, but I won't sleep. I saw him today. His hair is growing out and he wore a baseball cap. He doesn't wear baseball caps. He used to have a golf cap that he wore when I first met him. I loved it. I think he's sleeping with his ex. Not that I care. ****. I've ****** two people since we broke up. Okay, so maybe he broke up with me . Whatever. It was basically mutual. I don't think I love him. I don't understand this feeling. It's like I miss something. But I don't know what. Am I pretty? Because I wanna be pretty. And now I'm crying. Do you think I'll ever find somebody? I want to. Somebody who gets my crying and buys me coffee and tea and lets me make a mess in the kitchen and somebody who I can yell with and fight with and **** with. I'm not a good person. I know that. And maybe this ****** life of mine is karma for that. But I swear to god. I'm trying. I am. Will you love me? I miss love. Even when it got messy. I want to sleep with somebody. Feel something. I'm not nice. I can't have a nice guy. I'm sorry. I can't. I'm rough and I'm a ***** and when I make love it's passionate and fleeting and everything. Will you be there? I want to spend less time faking. I want to take midnight walks in the park and swing and go to the store and buy gelato. I want dates and kisses and doing that thing where you hold me and I rest on your hips with my legs around your waist. You don't have to like me a lot. I don't like me a lot. Just be there. I don't know who this is to. Maybe it's you. The one reading it. I do have a fantasy about meeting somebody through hellopoetry or tumblr or anything. You'll be reading my stuff, smoking a cigarette or eating or just sitting and you'll think "She's crazy." But you'll smile. Can that happen? Or is that just a sad girls fairy tale. I don't look like my picture anymore. I cut off all my hair. I'm not pretty. I'm not like the others. I'm me. And I"m different. I hate coffee, but I want to do slam poetry in a dark coffee shop and drink dark coffee. So, I'm teaching myself. It's late and I'm rambling and I don't have anyone to talk to. Sorry about that. One. Day. I'll find it. My *** of gold isn't money. It's you. I don't know if soul mates exists. Or somebodys. He was right. We think we know, but we don't. But even if you are just my somebody for a little while that's good. I just want to meet you. Be my best friend. Please. I'm so tired of being alone and pretending like it's all okay. I don't have to pretend on here. I don't have to pretend. I want to spend less time pretending. Help me.