Because you’ll never see the northern lights
because you’ll never travel the world
Because you’ll never get a tattoo
Because you’ll never buy a house
Because you’ll never see your brother get married
Because you’ll never hold a baby
Because you won’t be able to blow out the candle that’s still burning in your room
Because you’ve never had *** with someone who didn’t leave bruises
Because you’ve never touched anyone that you felt oceans for
Because you’ll never get closure
Because I’ll never tell you how I feel
Because you’ll never get over your stage fright
Because your friends care about you
Because maybe you like me too
Because weekends when you are home is all your mother looks forward to
Because your dogs won’t understand why you don’t come home anymore
Because your parents shouldn’t have to bury their daughter
Because your roommate will find you and never forget how you look heaped on the floor
Because you’ll never get ******* tab dividers to organize your ******* binder
Because you can do this
Because there’s a universe inside of you
Because you’ll never finish telling your story
You’re ripping pages out before you’ve read them
Doesn’t it scare you that you’ve only left 23
Because you deserve more
Because it will get better
Because I love you

nothing but a rental
my body, I'm left empty-handed
windows shattered, broken doors
violent breeze pushes forth
I am abandoned

my lips swollen
all the way down to my throath
I'm frozen
not allowed  to sing another note

tender galaxies
stretch across my delicate skin
stars bursting, they're screaming in pain
creating infinite life, where shadows remain

There is no such thing as a child of an alcoholic. There are children, and then there are alcoholics. One will never harmonize with the other.

Because alcoholics are never parents. They are shells, empty casings of love mixed with a burning taste of whiskey.

They are echoes of slurred, “Goodnight, I love you.” and “See you in the morning.” Each word filled with love, but blinded by the haze of liquor, so strong it fills your eyes with tears.

But most importantly, a child of an alcoholic will never be a child. No matter their age, they have gained the experience of those five times their age. They have watched life end with each tip of the bottle, but begin again when the sun breaks through their window.

I read stories about children who spend their days without a care in the world. And as a child, I wanted nothing more than that for myself. I wanted the carelessness, not the impossible burden of responsibility and secrecy that I held, hand in hand with resentment and hatred for the people who raised me.

There is no such thing as a child of an alcoholic. It’s not that we don’t exist— we do. But a child will never be a child when their parents can never be a parent.

he didn't hear me begging him to stop.
me too- he didn't feel me push him away.
me too- his words stung with guilt,
me too- he made me think everything was my fault.
me too- he choked me as I dug my nails in his skin,
me too- he didn't stop,
me too- he choked me until I passed out.
me too- he manipulated me into saying yes.
me too- he forced me to say yes for his own reasons,
me too- he didn't want to hear no
me too- he didn't want another girl to tell him no.
me too- he always told me I wasn't good enough.
me too- he would tell me all the things wrong with my body,
me too- he thought I would want to try harder to be better.
me too- he expected telling me I had "DSL" was romantic.
me too- he thought touching me without consent was ok.
me too- he thought he could get away with ****,
me too- he thought correctly.
me too-
he believes he has done nothing wrong.