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Remember the years when you thought childhood would never end?
Remember the years when you thought time was so slow?
Remember the years when you thought you were too small to matter?

And now, childhood comes to an abrupt end.
Now, time is as fast as my heartbeat.
Now, I am starting to matter.

Does that mean that this new life is better?
Should I be grateful for my further understanding of the world?

I yearn for the times when I had no responsibility.
I yearn for the times when I had nothing to lose.
I yearn for the times when I was totally and fully myself.
Without being scared.

I am scared to fail.
I am so scared to fail that I am scared to even try.
And I think that is what makes this life not better.

I wish you could freeze time on childhood.
I would spend forever there.

f.m.s.
Adulting is hard. I want to go back so bad.
  Sep 2018 Felicity Smoak
A
I want you to imagine fixing a watch, all the tiny little parts
And I want you to imagine fixing a watch with broken hands
An overly involved metaphor for the idea that you can’t fix someone else when you yourself are broken

I fell in love with this image of drugs and ***** and rock and roll
And the reckless way you lived your life despite the fragility
When I found myself broken I spent years picking up shards of glass and trying to put them back together
You swallowed yours with a bottle of whiskey and marched on

I think you’ve always seen me as someone who could fix you
I’ve never been able to do that
And that’s why you come back whenever you feel like killing yourself or you’ve finally decided that you want someone to come home to that doesn’t live inside a bottle

I’m still picking up glass
I wish I could love you enough to fix you
But I won’t ever be waiting for you at home
There’s too much glass
There’s not enough time

Even if I could find a way to go back and fix that watch I can’t use it to turn back time
We’re here right now
And my hands are broken
Everything is
Old *** repost poem
Felicity Smoak May 2018
I miss you
and not even in the way that I should
not even in the way that you've been away from me
not even in the way that we've been apart.

you've been right next to me.
but I'm all alone.
I spent all day with you,
but I spent all day alone.

f.m.s.
I just wish you spent more time with me. you spend all your time on your phone and then claim you love me. I don't understand. am I not enough?
Felicity Smoak Dec 2016
You said you'd always love me.
And you never did.
You said you'd always be there.
And you never were.
You said you'd help me get through life.
And you never helped at all.

My only question is "how?"

How did you manage to aid in my creation,
stand there in the hospital room when I was born,
hold me when I was only a child,
and then leave me?

How could you sit in a jail cell,
knowing I was alone,
without a father,
without anyone to even model one for me?

How could you repeat your mistakes,
knowing how much it would affect me,
knowing how much it would affect my mother,
and my younger sister?

How could you leave me alone,
without a care in the world,
without a meaningful existence in my life,
without the slightest feeling of love from you?

Was I a reminder of your long lost youth?
Did I threaten your freedom?

You're supposed to embrace that your era is over,
that it was time to let your kingdom fall.

When you have a child,
you're supposed to love them.
I never felt that from you.
Instead, you left.


I thought I was over this,
writing about you,
missing you,
crying because you'll never love me like you should.

I guess some feelings just never die down,
especially not abandonment from someone
who's never supposed to leave you.

Most girls my age share stories of how their fathers
taught them how to fix cars,
or threatened to **** the boy who took their virginity.
The only thing I have to share of you is your never ending abandonment, sorriness, and the resentment I have for you because of them.

They think I'm crazy,
to hate the man who made me.

It's not crazy,
it's just justice.

f.m.s.
When will I ever stop feeling this way? I guess we'll never know. But until I do, all I can do is cry and write.
Felicity Smoak Jun 2015
is it wrong to plan everything out
so that the stars don't collide when they align?

is it wrong to be terrified of the road ahead, even if I trust the driver?

is wrong to seize everything and make sure I am where I am supposed to be?

no matter what
i find myself
piddling through all my thoughts
my hopes and dreams
my wishes and desires
trying to find the one that paralyses me the least
but they all petrify me
just the same.

this next year is my last.
my last band camp.
my last marching band season.
my last first day of school.
my last new set of classes.
my last time meeting new teachers.
my last time sitting in those classrooms with those ****** desks that creak too much.
my last time walking through the halls of my high school.

it's coming. soon.
graduation.
i can taste the freedom it's taunting me with.
and yet here I am, begging it to procrastinate.

i want to be free, away from high school,
and home,
and this state.

but I've made a life here.
but I've made friends here.
but I've grown roots here.

maybe
eventually
i'll be okay
with
ripping

off

the

bandaid.


but not right now.
not right now.
not right now.
not right now.
I've never been so scared for the future in my life.
Felicity Smoak May 2015
I feel as if everyone just

t o s s e s

me aside, like I am

m e a n i n g l e s s

to

e v e r y o n e .
Is it true? Do I mean nothing to everyone?
Felicity Smoak Apr 2015
There's something so powerful
about looking up at the night sky
and knowing that all the mistakes you made today and yesterday are gone.

At the end of the day
you are still
a galaxy
within
a galaxy.

f.m.s.
You think your mistakes are big, but they are so so small.
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