“please leave a voicemail, beep”

Hey, uh, I have missed you.
Not like Romeo did Juliet
Or like Noah did Allie,
More like Han missed Chewie.
The point is, I wish things were normal.
I want our long talks about nothing,
Even the occasional silent ones.
We seem to have been playing phone tag lately,
Which is okay but I am ready to talk,
Ready to hear about your horrible drinking habits and your endless girl problems.
How does two years feel like a life time?
I guess friendships are like that sometimes.
Life goes on but it goes slower without your
best friend making you laugh,
Or calming you down when you need it the most.
I heard you are coming back into town,
I hope to see you.
Sorry to drag on,
Call me back.

-a voice message i wish i made

what hurts isn't the wanting to leave, it's the wanting to stay

do not expect for this to be a poem about love.

I owe you, right?
you gave birth to me,
which means I should be grateful that you didn't yell at me today.
thank you then.

I tell you I am hurt by your words,
but I should be sorry for being hurt by you?
I am sorry then.
it will not happen again.

I ask to close my door,
but this is your house.
you ask for me to clean your mess,
now it's my house too, right.

I need to take care of myself,
I'm starting to feel better.
I am wrong, you come first
I owe you every last breath.

I avoid the mirror.
I will look fat no matter what.
I wonder where I got this from.
thank you for my self-hatred.

see I have finally realized something,
parenting was your job,
not mine.
so why the **** was I doing it?

I do not owe you anything.
you chose to have me,
you chose to raise me.
you failed but I have to pay?

I have come up with two words for your parenting style,
mental abuse.

I hate calling you by the "right' name.
Mom.
I don't think you deserve that title.
I don't think you ever will.

The dewy grass makes me miss your lips,
as does the rain clouds.
When I see the baby foxes, your eyes appear,
rusty brown like the tractor outside.

Metal roof, where we lay under,
quietly listening to the drops.
You grasp at my warm waist,
pulling tighter like the loose faucet handle.

I crave your delicate peck against my lips,
like the green truck yearns to start.
My hands run through your hair as we lay
in the soft silence.

Dogs running and coffee cooling,
waiting for the sun to crest the hills.
I want this now, I want this later,
I want this forever.

"sometimes, you have to *** in the sink"

“i love you too, mom”

maybe i am that girl with mommy issues.
the girl who wants to be told what to do,
but wants to be in control all the time.
who will baby you like she never was,
but also want to be treated like a child.
the girl who will go out of her **** way to make sure you get whatever you want,
but sit here and cry when no one does the same for her.
the way she treated me will no longer affect me.
i am saying no more.