Mommys a glorified ******
With her 50 some year old married boyfriend
Favorite aunt is a stripper
Used to walk in on her shows
Daddy's a drug pusher
Gave me my fist high at 12
Granny's a kleptomaniac
Must be where I get it from
And it don't stop there
The show goes on
Drug addicts galore
To add plenty of drama
Then there's the snitch branch
Well to do Christians
My biological grandfather
Who says 14 is too old for his tastes
Plenty of violence
To keep things perked up
And everyone on their toes
Welcome, my friends, to the freak show.

She wasn't so special.
She wasn't even that pretty, and her hair was always a mess, she had tired eyes, also her knees were too skinny and her voice was too loud. She was always in her own world never paying attention to anything I had to say, always scribbling in that notebook of hers I never got a chance to read. She laughed pretty much about anything, and had an opinion about everything, seriously.
Okay, she was that pretty. In fact, the world beautiful wouldn't bring her justice in her worst day. Her hair was a mess, that's for sure, it always fell over her face and I used to pull it back gently. And maybe she had tired eyes for staying up until the moon went to sleep waiting for my 'I'm home' text. I got to say I loved the skinniness of her knees, I remember thinking she was secure with me, that nothing wrong would ever happen to her. She was a loud person, which kind of came in handy whenever she had to stand up for herself, watching her speak up always made me proud.
She was a daydreamer, always over analizing everything, picturing different scenarios and each possible outcome. She promised she would show me that notebook, I remember she mentioned once how every thought that crossed her mind she wrote, that always fascinated me. And her laugh, man, that I could never hate, I would have done anything to hear her laugh. She always told me how having an opinion about everything made her interesting, but I knew that already, for I found her fascinating since the moment I met her.

She knew who she was and she knew what she wanted,
I wish I had figured that out before.
It's too late now.

You walk down the street,
You said you won't be long.
But as the hours pass by,
They don't notice your gone.

The rain falls down hard,
Freezing you to the core.
Try to block out the words;
Rude. Dumb. *****.

Words echo in your head,
Each causing you more pain.
Getting away from the hurt
Is worth a little rain.

You sit on a bench
In the dark all alone,
Remembering the days
When this place felt like home.

You wonder what changed,
How they think this is right.
Wondering if they worried
When you left home tonight.

You walk down the street,
You said you won't be long.
But you left with your things,
And you're forever gone.

Bruised and blistered hands
from digging up memories.
Someday, child, you will understand.
When your joints ache,and your skin is creased,
you will understand.
Your hands will sting against the shovel
raw from blisters you didn’t take the time to bandage.
Time is to precious to waste here.
No one wants to greet death
without these memories by their side.
Every bruise it worth it, dear.
Never forget to remember.
For when everything has slipped away,
youth is gone,
the places and people you knew,
vanished.
All you have are memories.
So dig them up.
Brush away the dirt,
turn them over in your hands.
It will all come back.

Why are we so broken
Why do we all claim to be depressed
Why are we ruining our future
Why are we so drunk on the thought of being in love

Why are we so upset
Why are we so sad
Why are we so dependent
Why are we so needy

Why do we spend our whole lives
Growing into people we promised to never be
Why do we spend our whole lives
Being upset over things and people
Who are not worth it

We've got an entire life ahead of us
Why are we wasting it like it's worth nothing
When was it okay for a 11:11 wish
To turn into a suicide note

When was it okay for birthday candles
To turn into death wishes
We're all to **** young to be this upset
We're all too **** young to wish upon death

It's life and it's bound to be difficult
That doesn't give you any right to end it
You get up
And be a man
And face it

You walk right into it,
**Not away from it.