I was afraid of what
I saw in the mirror,
as I brushed my hair
back, after I got out
of the shower.

I didn't know it was that
b a d .

'Cause you are the only one
and all my friends have gone to find
another place for their hearts collide.
Just promise me you'll always be
a friend.
'Cause you are the only one.

I had the most vivid
dream about him last night.
We were together in a
house that I don't recognize,
in a huge bed.
He said something like,
I've missed this.
And before I could agree,
he kissed me.
I know what it felt like.
I saw his face so close to mine.
The last thing I remember is
saying,
My step dad's home.
you should go!
And him jumping up,
kissing me again
and then he said,
See you later.

I woke up lost,
in my own room,
suddenly back in my own bed.
I felt odd for hours afterwards.

She had gypsy dreams,
and he had the wheels
that could take her to
places she didn't even
know she wanted to go.

I wish the girl sitting next
to me at work would
stop playing with her hair.
It's triggering me so badly.
Unless you have
Trichotillomania,
then you have no idea what it's
like to live with it.  
I'm not feeling sorry for
myself, I'm just being honest.
I'm already constantly
thinking about pulling,
and my bald spot,
so when I see someone else
bring their hands up to
their head,
it's like a reflex.
I do it too.
The most frustrating thing,
is that I can't even say anything.
They wouldn't know what it
is anyway.
They'd say,
Oh, it's just a nervous tick.
Just stop doing that.
Those words have become the
most annoying words in
the English dictionary.

Because I'm NOT nervous!!

I have a problem
with falling
in love with things
that don't last.
Like this cigar
that kisses my lips.
It's already
half-smoked and
I'm already disappointed.
It's kind of like
my relationships.
Delicious and satisfying
at first,
until I inhaled
too fast and it's
almost gone.

I woke up crying.
This has never happened
before.
He was in my dreams
all night long.

I used to really believe
that you would always be
there waiting.
But now I know,
if the universe wanted
us to be together,
we would be by now.
We were meant to
meet,
to love,
to go through that
together.
But after all,
the brightest
stars burn out
the fastest.
You can't go back
in time,
and relive a memory.
My heart will always be
missing a little piece,
the one that I gave to you.
I hope you think of me
whenever you come
across Daft Punk
and Alt-J.
Whenever the stars
are out and the weather
is perfect.
When you are tripping,
and expanding your mind.
I will be there with you.
Peace, love and happiness
my friend.
In another life
we will be married.

Isn't it funny that I spent
all those months chasing down
every old black BMW
that crossed my path,
hoping to get just a glimpse.
Even though,
I knew where to find you.
But that's because up until
almost a month ago now,
I thought I would never
be able to see you face to face
again.
And maybe at the time,
that was true.
But I'm glad it isn't now.

I have a memory of him
that I love.

I came over on a sunny day
and he asked me to take
a ride with him.
Of course I said yes.

He smiled when I put on
the helmet,
and I wrapped my arms
around his waist.
Everybody used to think
I was crazy for getting
on the back of his bike,
but I wasn't afraid.
I trusted him.

And I remember that during
the ride he would let his right
hand fall,
and rest on my leg.
I knew he was doing this
on purpose because I could feel
his fingers tighten around me.

Even though my *** hurt
from sitting on the back
of his dirt bike,
I didn't want it to end.

Riding was his special thing,
and I felt such joy that he
wanted me along.

I would do anything
to be on the back of that bike
again.

Funny that a quote that
describes us perfectly
was written on his status.
The only breaking up
we do is.
is when we're breaking up
*the ****.

Here I am,
sobbing into my
sheets,
because he turned
off his phone.
He won't even
talk to me
anymore.
I am worried.
I am sick,
what if he's dying
and I am not
going to be there.
I don't know
what to do.
I wish he would
just answer the phone
so we could start
over again.
Just pick up.
Just text me back.
What am I supposed to
do now?
I'm afraid I won't
make it through
work tonight.
Because all I wanna
do is throw up
on my shoes.

You were so
Frankenstein
for me
in the way
that it felt
like I was slowly
piecing together
parts of myself
that I never would've
found if it hadn't
been for you.
Because being
with you wasn't
human.
It was a diabolical plan
for heartbreak
that had been set into
motion on the day
that each of us had been
born.

I feel even more alone
in this,
people know so little
that they thought it was an STD.
Honestly,
I worry that no one
will ever know or care
about something that
really plagues people's lives.
Something that takes over mine.
Some days I feel so
self conscious about the lack
of hair on my head that I
won't go out in public.
I can feel the unspoken stares,
and the amount of ignorance
when someone says,
Just stop
You really don't know how
much I wish it was that easy.

Okay.
I'll admit it.
I miss my friends
and I miss being
young, and care free.
I miss cruising to
Nicki Minaj
and chilling at the park.
Watching the boys
fight in the back yard.
Smoking *** for hours,
and laughing together.
Those boys and girls
were the closest thing
to a family I ever had.
I miss the late night
parties in Joey's room,
all of us,
either drunk;
******,
or tripping,
but happy.
You can't buy happiness
like that.

I miss sitting in
a room with
my family.

Today,
while cleaning
my car,
I vacuumed out the spot by the
ash tray and uncovered
a tiny purple ring.
It was put there two years ago
by one of my best friends.
Suddenly I actually remembered
her doing that,
and countless good memories
came flooding back.
I actually stopped what I
was doing,
and couldn't stop saying
wow!
Driving around,
jamming music and
"Cruising for dudes."
Talking about boys,
sneaking beers,
and smoking ****.

She spent some of the best
days of my life with me,
and she was the best,
best friend I've ever had.
I miss her.

I just started reading
some poetry of some
author I'd never heard of,
as I puffed on the hookah.
He recalled a time he was
naked with a woman.
Then I looked at his
picture on the back cover
and scrunched my nose.
He wasn't the type that
looked like he could get you good.
But I'm sure he could
rock my socks with science.
Anyways,
I know that's shallow,
but see, I'm used to Charles Bukowski.
A person and poet that
I would genuinely ****,
if he wasn't dead.
So of course Im more likely
to want to hear about his
past experiences.
I don't know where I
was going with this..

The Dixie chicks
just started singing in
the background,
and it distracted me.

I was watching
a special on Joan Rivers
on Netflix.
I like to change my own mind
on a person.. And I did.
In one scene she was crying
because she missed a friend
that had been there since the
beginning.
She said,
I miss having someone to say
do you remember to?!
and he was the last link to
my old life, my memories.
Now, it's as though all of that
means nothing.
Personally,
I have only connected to
words like that while reading
Bukowski,
but I wanted to cry with her
because that is exactly how I
feel.
I have no one left to
reminisce with,
who has been through the same
things with me.

And it makes me sad to know that Joan Rivers died without a single friend to reminisce her life.
And it makes me even more sad to know that I will die the exact same way.

I have always
been able to get along
with people that
others can't.
The outcasts,
the freaks,
the losers,
the *******.
I have always been
able to see what
ordinary people don't.
Who they really are.
Everybody is a good person.
Some just have a hard
time expressing it.
Actually,
I fall in love with
those who are different.
And I love them for
the rest of my life.
Maybe it's because
I have always been
the weird one.
So I know what it
looks like inside
the soul of a person
that nobody understands.

Waking up
is so sweet
when I see you
there beside me.
When I feel your
hands discovering my
body and then pulling
me close.
The small sweet kisses
under the covers,
with your arms around
me,
makes for a really
good morning.

I got a compliment
on my hair today.
I'm not telling you because
I'm conceited.
I'm telling you because it
means a lot to me,
considering what I've been
through.
I will never see my hair
as perfect,
but it helps to know that
it's not a complete disaster.

I will never feel bad for you if you think life ***** because you're SO pretty. You have no idea how much harder it is not to be.
I don't even want to hear the struggle of an 18 yr old who is just getting their first job. Welcome to the real world.
I can't stand people who don't have a job and are still better off than me.
I am not going to care if you're complaining about the significant other that you've been on and off with for EVER!
People with no money who smoke more *** than I do, because it's other people's ****, and call themselves a "stoner."
People who call themselves hippies because they smoke ***, wear sunflower headbands from Claire's and have only done acid once in their lives.
Oh and that John Green is a ******* sell out who shouldn't let anyone make Looking for Alaska into a movie because they're just going to RUIN it.

Sorry,
I don't think drinking is cool.
In fact,
I know that it can be very
dangerous.
If done in moderation
and on special occasions
then I say go for it.
But if you drink to fit in
and do it often enough
that I know how much you
drink by Facebook posts,
then I will think that you must
be a dull, boring person
because you need alcohol to
have fun, or make people like you
or make guys interested in you.
I don't think anyone has ever
made a good decision under
the influence.
And if you must black out
and make an *** out of yourself
with every free second you get,
then at least keep it to yourself.
We're all adults now.
Who are you still trying to impress?

Do you really want me
to tell you all of
the things that
loiter in my mind?
His hands that were holding
me so tight,
his bad boy whisper
in the dark.

You know somebody
loves you,
when just the thought
of losing you
brings them to tears.

Heavy eyes,
dizzy head.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Repeat.
Kinda like you.
It seems like we've been
here before.
But I wonder for how long.
After the last time things
went wrong,
I was sure that was it.
And now I feel desperate
to keep you.
Like these last two buds
I have in my bag.
I will smoke it nice
and slow.

I had cigarettes
and diet coke for lunch
because Speedway was out
of pizza and
half an hour is not
enough time to wait in
line in this town.
I have too many hours
until I get to go home
and all I want to do is smoke ****.
A sandwich would be nice too.

It still feels unfair that
I have all of these memories
with you,
that stick around like old
photographs,
that I have to keep putting away
out of sight because I can't
throw them out.
What do I do with all of them?
Like the night I snuck out of
my house that summer,
and ran down the street to meet you,
just so we could spend the whole
time kissing,
and saying I miss you.
What am I supposed to do with
all of you that's still left
with me?
I thought that by now you would be
forgotten,
instead you are haunting my dreams.

Sometimes,
when it's starting to get
late into the night
I hear the faint grumble
of a dirt bike.
Or, what I think is a dirt bike.
And I wonder
if it's
him.
What if he rides by
my house in the cover
of darkness,
because he knows that
I'll hear him.
And he misses me.
But that's just a nice memory.
I would be shocked
if it were still true.

I don't think it's fair
for my own parents
to make me feel this way.
Like all I am is
a disappointment that
***** up over and over.
My confidence is gone,
I go home expecting
something to be said
about what I did wrong
today.
And I am always right.
Even after I've been at work
all day long,
or gone at my boyfriend's,
somehow I'm ******* up.
They think that all I do
is shoot ****** into
my veins,
get blackout drunk,
spend all my money
on marijuana,
drive too fast
and ruin my life.
They don't believe me
when I tell them
it's not true.
But someday I'll prove
them all wrong.
Because my life is going
to be ******* amazing,
and I'm going to make it
happen all by myself.

My biggest fear is that
one day,
something will happen,
and then my fingers will go
to work and the next time
I look in the mirror
it will all be gone.

And I'll be left
standing in a
pile of my own
regrets.

You know you're grown up
when a family vacation
sounds like heaven,
because you haven't been
on one since four years ago
when you were a sophomore in
High school and your mom
got remarried.
Somewhere along the way
spending time with your
family doesn't matter anymore,
and everyone becomes obsessed
with bills and work and
relationships.
And somewhere along the
way everyone has their own
problems,
and no time to help with
anyone else's problems.
Somewhere along the way
you're family became people too,
and suddenly youre not so
alone anymore.

If you really
knew me,
then you would
know that
I'm a slob,
a tornado.
A lazy stoner who
can eat an entire
bag of Doritos in
one sitting.
And yet,
I'm a hard worker,
I get **** done.
You would know
that I'm shy,
until I fall in love
with you.
That I'm a little
slice of crazy,
wrapped up in
heaven.
If you really knew
me,
then maybe you'd
love me.

I just remembered what
it feels like to be in your world
again.
What it's like to
laugh with you again.

At first I liked you
because you were nice to me,
but not in the
clingy and desperate way.
And because you would sit
there quietly sometimes,
and look lost in thought.
And then I got to know you.
And realized that I liked everything.
I can remember the first time
I missed you.
You were going away to Iowa
for most of the summer to see your mom.
I sat up half the night
crying, waiting, awake,
hoping to hear you ride
by my house.

I couldn't even hear the crickets.