I hate the phrase
"College is the time to try new things"
because it excludes the idea that
you can try new things your entire life

My nights have gotten longer, my body no stronger. A foul air soils my apartment, stale cigarettes, my beer breath. Sleep doesn't bless me unless my brain is tricked, altered. Faltering footsteps due to shin splints, a spot of blood on the white wall by my bed from my arm. I gave up ****** harm long ago, or so I thought. It's just different now, I don't cut or burn, but I get drunk and fall, let people put out stoges on my back, fist fight for fun. Jeff said I'm a *******, and **** maybe I am one. I'd say I'm a mess even though I'm on track, pay my bills, work hard at my job. Hell, to the rest of the world I'm on my way up to the top, but to me...to me I'm a hazard, a ***** mop, a wreck. All I can think is that my own hands are getting tighter and tighter around my neck

Two months left sits in my chest pressing against my vital organs. Days play out like recordings on fast forward while I struggle to press pause. It may be best to cease this hiatus, yet part of me will miss this.
The watch on my wrist ticks ever on counting down the hours till I'm
gone...

Well, I finally stated the truth. "idk I'm just tired of it, this drunkness is false happiness." glares up at me as I look about my room. Broke my painting, my sunglasses, wrecked my arm, my liver. Shaking and quivering from too much to drink to the kitchen sink. I think it's time to stop.

My downstairs neighbor got evicted,
he gave me a charm to keep away evil spirits, hung it right on my door. Acceptance from a few time aqaintance
had never felt so good. We stood and smoked stoge after stoge, swapping stories, who would have thought two stories and a noise complaint to meet a Pisces just like me, and have him call me a saint. That *****, quivered on the air followed by I don't care, a high five, and a see you around. Drop the stoge to the ground, stamp it out, peace out.

I've been riding my bike with the seat stolen for months. I've cut down the time that nicotine washes over
my gums to two times a day.
I'm on my way out to a four year
university for the second time
and reduced my drunkenness
to three days a week
it might be tongue in cheek to believe
I'm healed and ready to venture on
but I'm at least going strong despite
everything I've done and seen. My phone screen gleams with a fresh text
"Just for the record, there is nothing I
don't like about you." screen shotted,
only a hands reach away from my pocket, that text might as well be
in a locket

my eyes beg to be shut but my mind
has stapled them open. Poison oak
from two months ago now, burns
as my nails rip into it, soothe it.
The fan rumbles ever on, my feet down
from the mountain, my bruises
remarking subtly of my struggle.
I'd **** for a sleep spell, but I'm just
a ***** muggle. Huddled up with pillows as my cuddle buddy. For ****'s
sake, let me sleep, let me sleep, let me
sleep.........love me?