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 Dec 2015
Scott Horror
when i sit
at a table
with people
i know
dont want me

when i drink
can after can
cup after cup
of electricity
and anxiety

when i dont
want to go home
but cant stay
here

when its after one am
and im still crying
out of my eyes
and out of my arms
and my legs
and my stomach


when i want to run
in all directions
at once

when i sing

when i speak

i feel
myself crawling
out of my skin
 Dec 2015
Scott Horror
Kissing the lips of a cigarette
Before I kiss another
Doesn't bother me too much
I guess I just relish the ritual
The self-destructive flame
Lighting up my lungs, my brain
For the first time since my soul died
A colorless dream
Breathing out the smoke like a child
Pretending to be a dragon
On the first day of December
The nostalgic bite in my throat
Reminds me of both
 Dec 2015
Scott Horror
today
I decided to stop talking
to see if anyone
really wanted to talk to me
or if I was just forcing myself
upon them
and I realized
as I sat in silence
that my words
are worthless
and always have been

yesterday
I screamed out loud
and no sound came out
but I felt
the inside of my mouth
rip apart
and I didn't cry

tomorrow
I went to the beach
with words in my pockets
weighing them down
like tiny stones
and I went for a swim
and let the words
pull me down
and let the water
fill my lungs
and I screamed
again

it made no sound
 Dec 2015
Scott Horror
in first grade
i had my first crush
on a boy
who told me
that i was annoying
and to leave him alone

in second grade
i pretended to be a witch
and my friends
cast spells
and rode invisible brooms

in third grade
i lost a spelling bee
because i misspelled
the word cotton

in fourth grade
i started my first diet
because my sister
made fun of my baby fat

in fifth grade
i had to get an appendectomy
and when i came back
people remembered me
only because i was gone

in sixth grade
I started skipping lunch
to go to the library
and sit in the bathroom
and cry
until class started

in seventh grade
i pulled apart a shaving razor
and sliced the inside of my wrist
and hid the small line
with a bracelet
made of denim

in eighth grade
i cut all my hair off
with safety scissors
and i learned
that no one will date me
and that my lips will never be kissed

in the ninth grade
i smoked
and wrote
and stopped talking
because no one wanted
to know that i existed

and i don't
think i will make it
to tenth grade
my school experiences

— The End —