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Letter to my parents who for some odd reason feel the need to micro-manage my life and treat me like a villian:

First off, *******. All you do is act holy and like you are better than me. You act like you never made any mistakes, and ohhh yes you did ones waaay worse than mine. You're gonna tell me I cant see my friends or watch tv because I smoked. Well what about you? You've told me some pretty crazy stories about your teenage days getting ****** and drunk and skipping class and ******* off. At least I go to school, at least I go to school and do my work and don't get ****** before class. At least I'm ******* responsible. Oh and I've been grounded from the internet for over a year for dating a ****** bag and being "Inappropriate" with him. Remind me about your pregnancy at what? 14? 15? HAHA at least I'm still a ******* ******. I'm rude?I'M RUDE?!?!?! SAYS THE ***** WHO STILL CALLS BLACK PEOPLE ******* AND GAY PEOPLE *******, SAYS THE ***** WHO CALLS HER STEPKID CRAZY AND SAYS ONLY HER AD WOULD CARE IF SHE WERE POISIONED, SAYS THE ***** WHO MAKES SUICIDE AND BULIMIA JOKES LIKE ITS ******* FUNNY!!!! SAYS THE ***** WHO FAT SHAMES PEOPLE AND TALKS **** ABOUT CHILDREN TO ANYONE WHO WILL LISTEN!!!! i'M ******* RUDE?!?!?! I'VE NEVER STOOD UP FOR MYSELF AND IM DONE WITH IT!! You have 2 ******* choices, either change and treat me like a human instead of an animal! Or I'm leaving. I'm moving the **** out and taking matters into my own hands. Try to stop me. I'll tell DHS about you pretending to call the cops on my brother and saying he was trying to stab you (He wasnt) all because he came home. I'll tell them about you locking jake out of the house when he had a fever of 112 and he nearly DIED. I'll tell them half of the **** you do and you'll be in prison faster then you can come up with some ******* lie. WHAT YOU ARE DOING IS ILLEGAL. Even if you arent my legal guardian it's still considered neglect and child abuse. So come at me. Either you shape up or I leave because I'm NOT gonna sit here and listen to some random ***** tell me I'm a **** up IM useless IM nothing. I am worth it. I deserve happiness, i deserve to be able to leave my room without having anxiety attacks. I deserve to be able to have a self confidence that doesnt revolve around what you think of me. I want to be happy. And if i keep getting everything taken away for a simple mistake and never being able to live it down, I'll never be happy. Just ******* let me  breath, let me **** up, I promise if oyu stop suffocating me then I'll come to you with my problems, but if you keep suffocating me and making me scared to even ask when dinner is that'll never happen.
The only light in my room is the blue of my skull lantern, red of my lava lamp and flicker of candle. It's hard to explain but it's surprisingly beautiful. The blue is making colors normally left unseen in the daylight pop off of my fuzzy pegasus blanket. The red glitter casting lights around my room like a million little supernovas. The candle is flicking light across my black curtains sweeping through my room pushed by the night winds like the souls of the lost. Will i become on of them? It's raining hard against my open windows and i can smell the damp earth a ****** throw away from where i sit under my luminescent posters and black and white photos depicting people torn and broken finding redemption. Will i ever be one of them? I have the overwhelming need to walk out into the dark blanket of the night, let my bare feet sink into the soft green blades beneath me, these ones wont cut me. I want to walk under the heavy moon resting like a jewel in the fabric of space, I long to wander these 23 acres wading through ankle deep currents, crawl through sharp thorns, run with the deer and howl with the lonely coyote. I want to treat the stars like old friends, tell them my woes and lost loves, my regrets and deepest fears, confide in them my scariest dreams, insecurities, joys, sorrows, loves. I'll beg the universe to put it's faith in me, ask it to recognize my existence because it sure as hell know i recognize its. But I'm not out there wih the rain washing away my fears. I'm lying naked atop a fuzzy blanket feeling the swirls of wind licking the skin of my legs, stoumache and face raising goosebumps like an old lover. Half of me shrouded in cold half warmed by the softness beneath me lulling me to sleep the other is begging me to stay awake, keep observing the world aorund me. I wont give into the warmth. I'll lay here awake ears flooded with the sound of sad guitars and tired voices, looking at the illuminated colors smelling the soft earth and nights perfume, feeling the dark run it's hands over the half of me i give it. Maybe I'll give it the rest of me, I wonder what I'll find? Only now do I feel at home under fluttering feathers of broken dream catchers, next to faceless angels and fantasy heros. They say everyone has a happy place, I finally found mine. In the middle of the night surrounded by pale light while only those who think like me are awake, looking at the same stars begging them for their own forgiveness. This is my place of peace how long will it last until somone finds it and taints it or takes it away like everything else? THis is the only place soft on my brittle bones, tender on my aching muscles. Yhe only place with enough air for my colapsing lungs. The night swoops me up in it's arms twirling me in the moonlight, dipping me in the stars. When I'm with the dark I dont have to confront the empty side of my bed because it fills it. The night is my lover and I'd give anything to stay in it's catastrophically beautiful embrace. The bittersweet dismay is I cant stay. So tonight I'll crawl into the warmth of my bed, drift into a deep sleep and pray to one day be nocturnal and join the night until the ends of my days. When my body gives way to the dust, I hope the night absorbs me, turns me into a shining star for wanderers to pray upon, and welcome me home.
there
a light pole looked back at them
from the top a hill
that's where you'll wait for me*
little did he know,
that's also where they would deliver his eulogy
Its nothing she says and she truly believes it.
All they are...
just bruises of different colors
If she was being honest she just felt numb
the first time...the second time? Sure.
But over the years she lost count and herself. She lost herself and sometimes she didn't care that much. Sometimes she did. When she did it came in waves and she would go searching only to find nothing.
Perhaps it was fate.
They would go on for a few minutes then days then hours then months and she grew drained.
So tired of searching. Only to find nothing.
She was tired of searching for something that she would never find.
It was a draining...oh so very draining search.
And then she was back to not caring. She almost always never cared.
Almost. No. Almost meant hope.
It was hard almost painful to realize when she was filled with hope.
A piece of hope fell away after every single man in her life left her chasing them with every promise.
From her father, her step father and countless of mom's boyfriends after that
only seeking one thing. Her.
Flesh. Not soul.
An when she wouldn't follow, it was stolen. Piece after piece of her. The pounding of pavement. The blood rushing from her nose, mouth, skin. Everywhere.
And the salty taste of her tears. That was the only way she knew this was real. Oh so real.
Been a good minute since I've talked to a piece of a paper.
Had to sharpen my pencil to get the get the words right.
Hope to meet my notebook again.

Life is all about the media.
you can express with out poetry just look at the comments.
It should be about working it out realizing there is an issue.

Can I just write and lock it all away?
what is it all about now?
Earn respect people, don't enforce it.

I use a piece of paper for a get away.
I have compassion for anyone you needs it.
Now there is nothing on here.
N.A.H
The weight of these words
rolling around in my head
are breaking my neck
one thought at a time.
 May 2015 Kaitlyn A Warnken
AFR
You see I hate my life yet I am too cowardly to end it so I sit on a throne of lies, I tell myself
I sit saying I am worth it and the reason I can't do it is because I know it
Lies
I sit saying that I will grow up and my anxiety and depression and old and scars won't be there everyday
Lies
I sit thinking my favorite teacher doesn't think I'm annoying
Lies
I sit thinking someone with love me
Lies
I sit believing I have a purpose
Lies
I sit believing my 'friends' like me

But the worst lie I tell myself is that I will **** myself but I know I won't because cowards don't get happy endings
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