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NL Feb 2012
Memory oppression.
It never works for me.
They always come back eventually.
It hits me like a wave,
crashing around me and drowning me
in an ocean of regret and self-loathing.
I feel so ****** up.

The easiest defense,
is to feel numb.
Smoke until my lungs hurt.
Drink until I cannot feel anything
Because the pain of my present actions,
sure as hell beats the agony i feel when
I think of all that I've done.

I am told I'm a good person.
I try to believe it.
But I can't let go of
the things I've done.
The people I've destroyed.

Montauges of the past
are like snapshots of
the truth of who I really am.

Relying on strangers for the necissities of every day life.
"Stay with me, love. Sleep in my bed. You will be safe."
"Snort this, dear. It will be okay."
Why did I listen?
Everything goes black then.
I awaken,
covered in sweat.
"What happened?"
No answer,
he just showed me the door.
It's strange,
I cannot even remember his name.
I will never forget his face though.

Drinking a liquid drug.
Flashes of insanity.
Laying on the bathroom floor,
questioning where I was.
Who I was.
Slamming my fists into the wall.
Trying to make the pounding in my head stop.
Make the voices stop.
Make the people in my head stop asking me all their
******* questions.

"Would you like to try something new?"
This strange man was offering me ****..
"Of course." I reply.
"I'll try anything."
Carefully lighting the pipe.
"Careful now, light it for too long and it will explode."
How did I fit so much smoke in my mouth?
Give it a second.
Feel the rush.

The tight pinch of the rubber around my arm,
I enjoyed the rush of nervousness as she said,
"This will only hurt a little."
The bite of the needle.
The image of my blood,
tainted black.

I thought he was so attractive.
I hooked up with his brother though,
while he shot up adderall in the bathroom.
He had a shortage of ****** at the time.

So many men told me they loved me in Utah.
They held me in their arms and stroked my hair.
They kissed my lips in a way that made me believe them.
None lasted more than a week.
Either I would not have *** with them when they wanted.
Or they realized how ****** up I really am.
Either way,
I was left empty and starving for love.
On to the next one.

Nothing compares,
to my ******.
I still remember
the sweet yet bitter taste of it.
I remember when I was a child,
I said I would never smoke a cigarette.
Who have I become?

Having *** for the first time in three years in a homeless shelter.
A twenty-two year old jailbird.
I will never forget
the swatstika on his chest.
Or the way he left the second after.
The sheets felt so cold that night.
And I felt so empty.

The man I thought I loved.
I knew him for all of a month,
when he was arrested before my eyes.
And it was all my fault.
I never saw him again.
His last words were,
"I love you. I'm so sorry."
I cried for two weeks straight.
We would smoke ****.
Have *** and never tire.
I thought I loved him.
I realize now,
I cannot fully recall a memory.
Or any feeling of affection towards him.
I hope he is okay.

his name was Tyler.
He housed me.
He took care of me.
I lead him on,
so I could have a roof over my head.
And I broke his heart.
And felt nothing.

***** Vegas drug runs.
With four men,
late 20's.
****** addicts.
I remember
leaving the parking lot,
looking to either side of me.
That day I saw true addicts.
Blood streaming from their drug infested veins.
I guess that's what happens when you
re-open old wounds.
I asked if I could have some,
after all,
I did find them a ride.
They said no to shooting it up.
But graciously let me smoke some.
The result?
Throwing up in the Vegas parking lot for an hour.
It's okay.
We went back to one of their place and did more.
Along with *******.
One week later they were raided.
10-20 years in prison.

One man I lived with for a month.
He was 31 years old.
Two younger daughters.
He always had a group of teenagers at his house
smoking ****.
The **** his daughters saw..
He kicked me out for not having *** for him.
It was my "payment" and I just couldn't do it.
It didn't feel right.
One month later his house was raided.
In front of his daughters he was handcuffed.
10 years in prison.

Wyatt called me a couple times.
Each time I burst out in tears.
How could he still love me?
I left him.
But I still loved him more than anything.
He was the only one who loved me unconditionally.

I remember Leavitt.
I have never met a nastier man.
He tried to turn me into a ******* numerous times.
He knew how badly I needed ******.
Why did I put up with him?
he had a car.
he molested me on more than one occasion..
Most likely because I could never remember it the next day.
He always promised me ****** if I stayed around.
Empty promises.
I tried to leave,
he stole my phone.
Called my parents and told them everything.
******* *******.
I did not want them to see who their daughter was now.

Brent tried to be there for me.
I used him.
And he knew it.
But he is a good person.
And he loved me.
So he sacrificed.

I had a friend named Tayler.
She was 15.
Dating a 27 year old drug dealer.
She was street smart.
Stole his **** almost everyday.
He was too drugged up to realize it was his own girlfriend.

My parents sent me money once.
Two hundred dollars.
It was spent on ****.
And what wasn't spent on ****,
my friends stole.
And I always forgave,
because they were all I had.

I am extremely grateful,
that many more memories have not come back.
I know some are terrible.
And I'm not ready to face them quite yet.

I have no idea how
I could associate myself with these people.
Let alone let myself become one.

Everything was so *****.
Every one was so *****.
I repress any dark side I have,
that I used to show.
Because I'm afraid to become that again.

I never want to be that person again.
I never want to live that life again.
When will I get closure?
When will I forgive myself?
When will I let myself be happy?
I think some people are just meant to be unhappy.

I don't think happiness is possible for me.
NL Feb 2012
Is it too soon to say I love you?
Two months seems so short to
an outsider's perspective.
no one can understand
how i feel.
How much I love you.
How much I need you in every way possible.
I need your arms around me to keep me safe.
You know I can't sleep well without that late night
"I love you."
I just need to wake up to your warmth
every day.
Until I cannot wake anymore.
NL Feb 2012

I really hope
with all of my heart and soul
that I'm not a bad person.
I really hope,
with every fiber of my being,
that I won't let you down.
but in the end,
I let down everyone that
has ever cared about me.
what you don't understand,
is that the past men,
have been in your shoes.
They have felt how you feel.
And I have let them down.
Every one of them.
I love you.
Am I in love with you?
In time I will be.
Do I care about you?
More than anything,
But will that change in time?
I am hoping,
that my fickle ways have changed over
With maturity
and growth.
You need to leave me.
because I am not who you perceive me to be.
I am no one of consequence.
I want to be the person you portray me as.
but I fear I am the opposite.
Was I born good?
Or was I always this way?
Will I ever discover
the answers?

do I want to?
NL Feb 2012
is routine.
It is
why are we surprised
when it happens to someone
we know?
Someone we love?
Someone we hate?
It is something
that happens to others.
Never us.
Sometimes it
what we want
and what we don’t.
But in the end,
that really matters,
is how we are remembered.
Will I make an impact?
Or will I drown in an ecclectic
mixture of
the various
I cannot seem to stay away from.
Will my family
have to live with the fact
that their only daughter
was so masochistic and
that she had no regard
for anyone but
that can’t happen to me.
I must be referring to
NL Feb 2012
Sometimes the past comes back.
Like a train it
hits me at full force,
knocking me down and
leaving me questioning
everything I thought was me.
The sadness hits me
like a tidal wave,
drowning out all other
emotions and
transcending all
rational thoughts.
Everything is
so ****** up.
We are all
so ****** up.
Nothing is our fault.
Nothing is real.
It all feels so
So surreal.
Love is not enough.
Hate is not
strong enough,
but emotions are all we have.

And they will be the death of me.

The one who saved my life.
Cared about me more than anyone else,
I erased
and discarded,
like spitting out a piece of
5 cent gum at a
****** convenience store.

Everyone that matters
must be left behind.
Because feelings are dangerous.
And I hate these kind.

Suicide is selfish,
but sometimes it’s all we feel
we have.
Love is relative,
but brings more bad than good.

Is it worth it?

I can’t help others,
if they won’t let me.
I can’t save the world,
so I’ll just let be.

I break everything I touch.
**** everything I love.
When people break though,
I shatter.
I've left all I thought
that really matter.

do I deserve this?

Because these are the questions that keep me awake at night.
NL Feb 2012
I see
                                                                ­         you
nothing else matters.
the way I
                                                                ­       break
self-realization hits me.
                                                             ­              I
need to figure out what is
What is not.
What is surreal.
What is sane.
These memories build like
building blocks,
until one day I decide to
make it all
                                                             ­        shatter.
NL Feb 2012
Last time I let someone in,
I almost didn’t make it out alive.
Emotionally scarred.
I will never fully heal.
But with you,
I feel better.
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