I have a friend who
has feelings for me and it's ridiculous
17 and never been
And I want to scream,
don't turn back.
Whatever it is you see in me is
Stay the way you are, because it's naive and it's innocent and
I would give
to be like you.
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.
Lots of late night rambling gonna happen. trying to pull an all nighter.
I am so sad tonight.
I read something that said whenever someone dies their sadness is transferred.
I think that's *******.
I do not know if I am strong enough for this life. Its not a suicide threat. Simply a fact. I will not end my life but that doesn't mean I will live it.
There's gotta be more.
I overromantice everything.
The way you held me tight.
You are always running your hands through my hair.
There is so much tension between our goodbye and our kiss and our goodbye again.
You said you love my smile. That you like me "a lot more than I should". That I'm totes adorbs.
And you are frustrating and terrifying and intoxicating and I want to drink you in like a mug of coffee.
And when we talk or we cuddle or we just sit. It doesn't feel wrong.
And I deserve this. I want this. **** her and rules and everyone.
Because I've been giving away parts of key body for so long that I forgot what it feels like to share my heart.
And it feels like hope and summer and bad decisions and confusion and snapchats and ****** Mac n cheese and weird music and new beginnings.
And I'll hide with you. Let's hide from the world. We can't share this newly blossoming romance and maybe its better that way.
This is honest. And raw. And poetic. And full of lust and terror and emotion.
I want to kiss you until our breathes are taken away. I want to hold you until you forget. I want to get coffee and get drunk and get high with you. I want to feel.
Thank you for helping me feel.
I am broken glass, causing pain to anyone who comes close enough to try.
I am a scared girl, a woman who is terrified of commitment. I used to see happiness. Now I simply see a bottomless pool and my pockets are filled with rocks as I sink into the blackness.
I used to love so fiercely that it burned holes in our hands and left scars on our lips. Now I run, faster and further and don't stop until the distance between us is a chasm.
If you fall for me be warned. I do not know how to love back. When I hurt you, when I sleep with someone whose name is not yours or I disappear it is not because you weren't good enough. I just don't know how to love back.
He taught me that promises lie and that they will hurt you. It's inevitable.
I will sting you with my words. I will make you ache for my warmth when I turn my back. You'll ask why when you find out I slept around.
Hurting you before you leave. I'm sorry, but it's the only way I know how to survive.
I am not a poet.
I am just a ****** up girl with a skewed perception.
I am composed of heartbreak and battle scars and I try but not enough.
I am not a poet.
I don't know iambic pentameter. I stay up too late and make coffee at the wrong time.
I yell when I get angry and I love too much when I love.
I am begging you to love me. Whoever you are. Fall in love with my poetry, if not with me.
I am not a poet. I am just a young woman tired from life and ready to move forward but too scared to go alone and I want you to hold my hand.
I do not just love you. I also hate you. I am both and I am none.
Do you understand!
I AM NOT A POET!!!!!!
I am not good enough smart enough pretty enough
I will love you until my heart breaks.
I am not
A ******* poet.
I just write out my tears in prose.
When I call you out, when you feel my heartbeat through my words, that is when you should find me.
am i selfish
for wanting this one thing?
i love you
its her i hate
you would do anything for me
even something like this
but i was wrong
i feel bad
like i dont trust you
like im selfish
maybe theyre both true
i dont know anymore
i just wish id never asked
that way i could continue believing a lie
believing that youd give up anything for me
but i asked
and now im faced with reality
to be honest
i like my make believe world better
where you go
"sure babe, of course ill stop talking to her"
but thats a dream
like unicorns or fairys
i have to face reality
i have to hurt
to make you feel good
and i will
cuz id do anything for you
including this suffering
cuz i know it makes you happy
and sometimes thats all
This is from 2011 when I was young and going through my first real breakup.
Just love me
I have two beautiful sisters.
Sometimes I have okay
self image, but
it can be hard.
Dezi has that blond hair, brown eyed all american look. She's got a **** and curves but is still petite.
She thinks she looks good most of the time but sometimes she is throws fits about clothes and I know what she's thinking.
Yesterday she made fun of how hairy my belly is. I need to shave I guess.
My sister Karen is gorgeous. Eating disorder makes her skinnier than she already is. But she still has curves. She throws up her food before I'm even done with mine and she's slowly killing herself.
She doesn't get that she's slowly killing me too.
And sometimes when I feel weird after i eat I wonder if I should just stop.
I'm the oldest so I try to act okay. They don't know that I just cut this morning or that them both smoking causes me to cry sometimes. They don't realize that I know I will never be enough. That I only allow myself to sleep with guys that I don't care about because its better than getting my heart broken by someone I love.
Last night my dad said he didn't love me.
Two weeks ago the boy I love lied to my face and chose someone else. Forgot about me.
I used to want to die. I still do but the ****** thing about that is I can't because I have to make sure my sisters are okay.
I need a friend who cares and a boy who loves me would be nice too. Romantically.
Cross my fingers.
Cross my heart.
I'll be good just please
I sometimes get angry
a clinical case of
Its the nights where
to surround myself with
three blankets and mountainous pillows
so as not to feel empty.
Its the morning when I
wake up and the boy from my dreams is
Its when I feel stuck
on an island with no one and no
But my "mom"
tells me I am lucky
and I am
brave. I am only
18 and yet I have felt more lonely than
many people ever will.
when I am surrounded by
all I will feel is so so so so so
Everybody feels lonely, but if you're
lucky. Like me.
You also know how to
deal with it.
You know what?
So I fell in love and I had my heart stomped on and broken.
I'm not done.
I can swear up and down that I'm done with love
God, I fall in love
It's written into my
dna. I can't stop this
This self-inflicted torture.
I fell in love with the lunch that my sister made me.
The little boy in daycare who insisted that I'm a boy.
The way the cold hugged my bones.
This poem that I'm writing.
The song that is playing.
No, when one is loving all the time,
it makes it
I am talking to someone else and I trying to convince myself that I could fall in love be with him but I just keep seeing your face.
Our conversations were poetry and nonsense and broken promises and I miss you.
I am a ******* loser because I miss you.
I should hate you and believe me I do but tonight I miss you.
I spent days, weeks, months, years
picking the petals off
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.
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
not not not
to have a
What is so wrong with me
never land on a
and when you stepped into my room to say goodnight and asked if I was okay I want to scream give me a hug and I can't sleep because the nightmares are ptsd flashbacks and I'm scared I'm getting bad again and I don't know whattodohowtothinkwhattofeel and I'm scared and lonely and no I am not okay no I am not okay because I'm not sure that being alive is something that wants me and I am so scared of letting everyone down and I just want to be good enough and I want a boy to hold me and to tell me that its okay and I wany to stop feeling ugly because ******* I'm pretty right right right please don't accept my ******* I'm alright answer because too scared that I'll scare you if I tell you the truth but I need to because I want you to listen and then to want me I just want someone to want me why is that so ******* hard
English class and I'm supposed
about Sir Gawain,
but I think
is teaching me
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
actually being a slob
what if i never do enough
Happiness doesn't have to be
Getting to eat
Not self harming today
Family, especially those that we choose
I don't know.
I'm in a hopeful
And I'm realizing that while looking at the big picture,
life looks ******.
But when I break it down, just look at today.
I had a **** good day.
If you need a friend,
message me. Just lonely tonight.
I don't want to
to be strong
I can't do it all the
And who's being strong for
And who's listening to me when I
I read once that when we meet our soul mate we feel calm.
At peace, at home.
And I think that makes sense, I have always been an empty road, a drifting sea.
And to find land, that would be my sou mate.
Shreds of doubt. Can't you just see it? A paper called hope going through the shredder until it turns to doubt, lying in the trash can.
Sometimes it's not that things don't work out.
Sometimes it's not that we fall out of love.
Sometimes it's not that we fail a test.
Or forget to dream.
Or lose ourselves.
Sometimes it's just that we let doubt in.
We just let it seep into our thoughts and our actions and our lives. And doubt, it kills more than failure does.
Once hope is shredded no amount of duck tape or super glue will bring it back. It's gone. So hold it close.
For some reason
when I think of
of hope I keep seeing
a woven basket.
I have no idea why.
I guess maybe because they're easily
it's not a metaphor.
Maybe that's just what
I get so lonely and sometimes I can push it away and drink coffee or read poetry or listen to music.
But the thing is that often my paid slams against the cage of my heart and escapes through my eyes, making tracks down my face.
I have this thing called depression. Called ifeelwaytoofuckingdeep. Called sometimesijustwanttolayinbedcryingandlisteningtomusic.
I want to stop crying multiple times a day and I want to stop feeling like my world is constantly on the edge of collapsing but I dont know if that will happen.
I'm scared that nobody would really be able to want me if they find out how ******* up I really am but my friends call me blunt for a reason.
I'm not really any good at stuffing my feelings. But I would like somebody to pull them out of my tummy and help me speak them. I would like somebody to give me a hug and wipe my tears. Better yet I want somebody who will let me cry.
Loneliness is a disease that tears you part daily, minutely, secondly. I have diagnosed depression but that is simply a side effect of the lonely.
There's this guy at my school and he
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
I am a *****.
I am a liar.
I am a poet.
I am not
I don't know what his thought process is.
I want to be
Funny and nerdy and cute.
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
There's no way I would ever get in a
I'd ruin him.
I want to be
what others need.
But I'm just
I don't want to
pictures of you with your new
girlfriend and "kid".
You didn't know what you
wanted. You got scared that
be pregnant. So, you run.
Like the ***** you are.
And you go to her.
She broke your heart years ago, she abandoned you when you needed her.
She just had a baby.
You can't even grow up.
And I hate you.
I hate you.
So, don't ******* try to ask me why I
blocked you on facebook.
Because you chose this.
You chose this.
I can't let you keep stomping on my already bruised heart.
I used to say that
felt like coming home.
And when you left
But, I've realized that
the only home that there is
I have black shoes.
I bet they look like
Isn't it weird,
everyone is interconnected?
Isn't it insane
I've already met you...
My friend Morgan and I have not been very close at all.
But he's been nice to me again in the past few days and although my heart still craves Trevor I want to call for my friend.
And we talked about Trevor and about when we get stressed out and I admitted how bad I've been lately and how I moss being friends and I ****** it all up byoving in didn't I. I did.
But when he said no I wanted to believe him and when he said nothings changed I almost said that may be true for him but not for me because I used to get butterflies stuck in my throat when I thought of him and sometimes my lips still think of how sweet his words sound and if they would taste that sweet in my throat.
I wanted to say that everything's changed because I had fallen for you and that's why it ***** because I live here and not saying you would want to but now we cannot be together and I thought maybe we would have nights spent not talking but just watching Netflix and I thought maybe I wouldn't be so lonely and I am so sorry that I fell for the boy at the wrong time.
When I said that the guys that are decent never want me back I was talking about you.
I was talking about you
I do not know you and logically I do not love you.
But dear god,your poetry is the sugar in my coffee and it has made me okay.
And tonight, I love you.I want to take your hands into mine.
I will recite you Pablo Neruda and my love poems. I will fix you coffee or tea and I will lay beside you until the loneliness leaves both of our hearts and pur souls meet in a binding that only two broken people can understand.
You are a star in the sky that says make a wish and you are the words that I want to be. You are powerful. Powerful beyond measure and although I have never seen your face I know that it is the most beautiful in this universe.
If I am glass and coffee and late nights then your words are a balm for my aching heart and a salve for my beating head.
And I, I am simply lucky enough to be able to bask in the fever of your prose.
how you can be okay, eating your slightly ****** but still good dinner and watching the fosters, and then suddenly
just not okay.
My mom left again. A few days ago.
But it hits me
Growing up dad leaves and mom leaves and sometimes I left myself.
And then friends go and boyfriends go and your almost 19 wondering why no one in the world is hearing you.
Im screaming STAY
I'm screaming I need a friend
And is it a wonder then
that I never believe when people tell me they won't go.
That I shove them away.
That my voice says don't stay while
my heart knows
that the opposites all I've
I guess its a good
thing we do not always get
what we want.
Our 11:11 desires change as quickly as the clock.
Will somebody pretend to
be in love with me
just for tonight.
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.
that contributes too.
But I don't know.
I like to blame it on
I looked at an old picture of us countless times today and when I thought I started my period I almost cried from relief.
It was a false alarm.
I thought that maybe I was falling for this other guy but I'm just me and so he's not interested.
I'm sitting at the park right now. Its chilly and I want to go back to the house but I know I'll start cutting.
Oh yeah. I'm doing that again. Right underneath my *******. Hidden so well.
I want to talk to someone or cuddle or just ha e somebody want me.
Why doesn't anybody want me.
I shouldn't be thinking about you still. Its been over a month since we first stared replaying our game.
I read the most beautiful poem today.
I'm going to go back to the house I'm staying at and take a shower and bleed out my heart. I have been crying nonstop for days now and I hate everything.
I miss the way I felt when he looked at me right before he kissed me.
I miss the way he felt as he moved inside me.
I miss the way that he made me laugh.
I know that it was a lie, this fantasy world that we both made up in our heads. I kist wish that we could have made it work out loud.
My tears are streaming down to my knees and I am screaming into my blanket covered fist and I want my friend to come out of his room and I want to hug him and say I am not okay I am not okay.
What am I to do when my heart is braking because I cannot make it whole and I'm hungry and I miss you and I hate hate hate hate myself because how fun led up must I be to want you back in my life and how terrible am I that when she talks about "almost killing" herself I just want to scream do it and I DO NOT want to be alone and how brave would I be to knock on his door or to text him and then what. I am no good at beginnings. But dude. I'm at a expert at endings.
I am an expert at a endings.
To all the religious people
just waiting to
about how much
"god loves you, but your wrong".
Just get the *******.
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
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
Wanna cuddle and cry and read poems and drink tea?
Wanna be happy and sad?
Wanna be together?
I'm so tired of being alone.
What about you?
The other day the clock struck 11:11 and I made sure to not wish for anything for that minute.
When I was little I liked to wish for a doll because then I knew that my wish would come true.
I want to write about things, not just emotion.
I have trouble writing about god or the sky or my family but loneliness and love and obsession come to me easily.
And i may not be able to describe how the people looked and how the crowd cheered at the drag show last night but I can tell how my heart felt like it was going to brat with pride and how I smiled because I felt god in the place and I felt her smiling on us.
And I can't close my eyes and speak descriptions of what my sister looked like when she cried but I can remember how my chest contracted and I wanted to scream and shake her until she understood that there is a balance and she needs to learn that she deserves anger not just those around her.
I don't know how to put into prose what the soldiers in the civil war looked like but I know that when I closed my eyes and saw them in the fields and it was like the sun is shining where it used to be dark.
I can't write an ****** poem describing ******* someone. I can only say that sometimes your heart feels like it will burst from love or break from loneliness. And sometimes it does both.
I don't know what was said but I remember the emotions.
I remember the metaphors.
I remember the feelings.
Life is short
or is it long?
in the blink of an eye.
Please live it to the fullest.
Don't fall asleep.
You might wake up
and find that all this
was a dream.
Why is it that us poets, people of such passion are so often the ones clutching the bottle at the end of the night as we crawl into bed alone?
Why are we the ones searching for someone to **** because we never get any farther than that. Some call it home run but a hug is much more satisfying.
And we're the ones who cyber stalk and listen to music and pour out ours hearts and scream at the top of lungs and go on midnight runs.
And I have no one I can explain this to. No one I an call and cry poetry too and no one I am yell at and no one to love and no one to hate. And I thought it would work. I thought maybe I would get lucky and meet someone whose heart whispered the same things as mine.
Once upon a time in a far away land a princess met her prince. But tonight right here a young woman is simply begging for anything, anyone.
I used to say
That's all I ever wanted.
So what am I
supposed to do
when it's been ripped
When you passed out
I told you.
"Everybody leaves. I make everyone leave."
I've lived in over 20 houses.
How could I think
this one might actually be
Yesterday I found god.
I found her in the garden at the park.
She was evident in the ducks that I watched.
Her name was written all over the puddles that I jumped in.
I heard her as the rain came pouring down.
I found god.
He was in laughter.
In the police that protected downtown.
The couple that kissed in front of a preacher.
I tasted him in my coffee.
Some people don't believe and I get that. I don't always believe. But sometimes, you have days where god is as evident as the skin on your body.
Today I watched the fault in our stars and I realized that when I kiss my next lover that I want song lyrics to be screaming.
I want to be listening to jack white sing that he wants love to ****** his own mother.
I want fireworks to explode and I want to be hearing the words from my favorite poets ringing in my eardrums.
I want the world to stop spinning amd to stop breathing.
In that moment I want my heart to atop bearing. I want to die for five minutes because if your kiss isn't the afterlife than I dont know what is.
I want to go
eat milkshakes and
I live with my sister's boyfriend and my sister.
I'm thankful to have a place
But sometimes, when they get so
cutesy I want to
cry and scream and yell.
I want it too.