My dream is to smile again
I want to gi e a smile to myself
I'm tired of gi ing a smile to others
I'm tired of ʰᶦᵈᶦⁿᵍ behind my f̶̓̅a̷͗̄k̸̀͐e̷͆͘ smile
Someone please gi e me smile
Please bring back my smile
ᵢ wₐₙₜ ₜₒ ₛₘᵢₗₑ ₛₒ bₐdly
I beg you.

There is nothing more concrete than rock bottom.
I've made a home there.
Shaved off enough sand
To fashion a bed and some pillows.
I can't tell if it's Stockholm syndrome
Or I just couldn't care enough anymore
To try and swim out.

Why bother leaving
When you've made your bed.

I never once kept the door closed,
Despite everything that would make you think otherwise.
My arms tremble at the thought
Of pulling all this weight again.
But I was ready.
The things you do for love
Or what you thought love was.

Nothing says emotional stability like dollar store sleeping pills.
Inertia for a brain
I let it all pile up
Until I'm buried in snow like a cokehead fever dream.

I fell asleep on the high road
Waiting for you to run me over.

There's a thin line between obsession and love
Often hard to discern
Obsession sits in the bathroom while you ****
Love shoves a magazine under the door

I found my old journal.
I didn't write in it a lot,
Only when I could think to do it.
Only when it felt necessary.
So I wrote about a lot of the same things.
Heartbreak mostly.
A 9th grader so terribly in love
Again.

Everything is remarkably depressing
At that age.
Or so my journal would have you believe.

Here are some excerpts I found noteworthy

November 19th, 2014.

"I just hope she finally decides my head is no safe resting place for any kind of love."

December 16th, 2014.

"I feel like death, and all I want is for her to hold my dead body until I feel like breathing again."



Heavy,
I know.


Believe me,
I know.



I'd be dishonest if I didn't mention
That there are a lot more of those.
And I'd be dishonest if I didn't mention
That I'm best friends with that girl now.
I laughed when I read these.
The pain read so real
Yet I don't remember what it feels like
To miss her like that.

Then I found another passage
From a year ago.
A riper wound.

September 23rd, 2016. (The day I found out she didn't love me, and might be dating my older, douchier cousin)

"I cried for the first time in awhile, but it doesn't feel as good as I remember."

And then I realize
I've been watching the same Ferris wheel
Go around
My whole life,
Just with different people
Playing the same role.
And it all feels the same.

If love was for sale
I'd empty my pockets.

I still pick the scab.
I'm still the same kid.

I used to go for walks.
I'd sit on a park bench by the water
And watch the waves come in
Like they're supposed to.
I guess I found comfort in their consistency.
My legs would freeze
My ears would burn
But I wouldn't leave until I thought
I felt what I needed to feel
I understood what I needed to know.

I don't go for walks anymore.
This town is too small
And I'm too scared
I'll see you
Shotgun
In a car that isn't mine.

I've tried to bite the bullet.
They don't taste like bullets anymore.

i can't stop picturing
you
with
her

your bodies together
whispered forever?
a secret endeavor

tell me the old tales
follow the tear trails
spare me the details

maybe i rather know
memories are painful though
maybe i should let it go

comparing myself
to herself
with yourself

i can't stop picturing
you
with
her

s.s