One of the hardest things
in the world
is sitting across from
some one you once
exchanged I love you
with.
Catching up and
pretending not to
remember what it felt
like to kiss them.
Every time I fall
in love again,
each time leaving
is harder
than it was before.
I never really remember
why these people left
my life,
or why they even entered
in the first place.
But it's always bittersweet,
when you walk away
with your heart
in your throat.
So, smoke a cigarette
and try to convince
yourself that you don't
love them anymore.

And it'll be okay.
For now.

There are some things that
I would like to change.
About myself.
To become a happier, healthier me.

Eat healthier. Cut fast food from
my diet.
Stop biting my nails,
stop feeling guilty, and
stop trying to make things okay with people from my past who don't deserve my effort.
I want to start dressing the way I want to without worrying about being judged by someone.
Do something good for someone at least once a day.
Work harder,
study harder,
sleep more.
Spend more time with my family, and my mom.
Find a way to start saving money.
Get Health insurance.
Write something every day on here.

And finally,
get my trichotillomania under control. I want to start keeping a diary, and keeping track of when and what causes me to pull. Learn ways to stop, or substitute the pulling with something else.. like reading, drawing, writing, painting, SOMETHING!

Oh, and to smile, every

  day.

:)

I'm getting lost in my
thoughts and my eyes
want to close.
My fault.
I smoked a bowl before
work this morning:
I also cut the palm of my hand
with a knife;
and I hadn't even been at work
an hour.
I didn't say anything.
I don't think it needs stitches.
I need to wake up somehow
before I accidentally **** myself.

We finally went on that
date we had always talked about.
We met where we first met again
after 4 years.
We took his car and he told me
about his cross country road trip.
We went to a Japanese restaurant
and I tried some new food,
and we talked about
books, music, and our lives
in less than a summed up way
of what has happened in the
time we were apart.
We split the check,
and headed back.
I enjoyed hearing his voice
and looking at him,
and how comfortable I became
around him.
When we got back to my
sister's place that she shares
with her fiancé,
I left for a bit to get food
for Dan, because he's practically
crippled right now,
and a blunt for my cruise home
later that night.
When I got back he was gone.
No good bye.
No hug.
No possibility of a kiss,
that's been in the making for
years.
I don't think he had a good time.
Maybe, he realized he didn't
really like ME.
I don't know what else to say.
My feelings are hurt again
by a guy that I'm not even
with.
Story of my life huh?

I changed my major today.
The one I quickly picked
a year ago,
English.
After experiencing my
first year of college,
I discovered that what I
really want to do,
is help people.
So now I am a social work major.
I am never as hopeful
and excited for my future
as I am when I know I'm
going in the right direction.
It will take some time,
and loads of hard work,
but one day I will achieve
all of my dreams.

I shouldn't have
pried on something
that I didn't want
to know the answer to.

But now all of my questions
have conclusions
and I wish they
were still up in the
      a i r

Hello dirt bike boy,
sometimes I wonder if
I should even still call
you that.
Do you ride anymore?
Or did another hobby,
or another girl replace
what you once loved?
I keep seeing your face
on the profile of people's
facebooks that I didn't even
know you knew..
I will never escape your
ghost for as long as I'm in
this state.
I hope that someday we
will talk again,
and make up
as different people.

But for now I will stay
haunted by your presence
all over this ******* county.

Today I found out
that my boyfriend
has cancer.
Well, it's forming
in his body.
Stomach.
They gave him a
few pills and sent him
on his way.
He didn't even want
me to know.
Said he didn't want me
to freak out.
But I didn't.
He keeps saying
he's going to be fine.
It's fine, it's fine,
it's okay.
And what happens
if it's not?

I remember why I used
to come here every day
after class when I went to College.
It's quiet.
The kind of quiet where even
breathing makes too much noise
compared.
But today I am here
because I have nowhere else to be.
I'm sitting in my car writing this,
and a skinny man in white shorts
jogs past.
I know he's here for the same reason
I am.
Just a little time off.

I've seen more people
smile at seven in the
morning,
than I ever have
at night.
Apparently all the
happy people have
day jobs.

The guy who works
at Speedway,
bought my coffee
this morning.


What a wonderful way
to start off a Friday.

Now I'm even smiling.

Oh the memories.
They hurt like
some one just jabbed
me in the heart.
I am longing for
last summer,
all those long nights
spent with you,
listening to Alt-J,
looking at the stars.
Ow.
I wish that the memories
could come like a laugh,
easy and good.
But usually I just
feel out of control.
Because I know that
all we will ever be,
is a beautiful memory.

I think I just found
the new title of our movie
-xo

The forecast calls for high
humidity and another long,
hot day.
I woke up last night and
forgot where I was,
because he wasn't sleeping
next to me.
I woke up really early and
got ready relatively fast.
My friend's dad who works
at Speedway offered me a job.
Probably because I'm their
most consistent shopper.
I politely declined and told him
I already work 40 hours a week.
I got high before work,
so I feel good.
Just not looking forward
to the humidity,
again.

Underneath this
sunflower sweater
and sweet blue eyes,
I am a ***** grungy
rebel who loves the taste
of trouble and ***.
That's why I cut my
hair short,
it ****** people off.
I like to smoke cigars
and know that there's
a hickey under your
shirt.
Whips and chains
excite me,
black hair and
dirt bikes, danger,
and drugs are my
secret desires.
I like staying up
all night,
drinking cheap beer
and doing things we're
not supposed to.

I am all of these things,
but you may never know.

He thinks she is
**** when her eyes
are red and his t-shirt
hangs off her shoulders.
When her hair is messy,
from hours of smoking
and making love
under the sheets.
She is so beautiful
when she doesn't know.

The cat is laying at
my feet,
and there are people
in my living room
doing dabs,
choking and coughing.
My neighbors and my room mates.
I am lying here,
high as the moon myself,
thinking about how I needed
to capture this moment
for some reason.
A train goes by again,
and my fan is whirring in
the window.
The cat moves her head.

It's been a good night

There are no drugs or
alcohol that can ****
you up as badly
as human emotions.

It's nice to know
that he can sleep.
I can't.
I feel blown off.
I shouldn't be
sleeping alone.
He is supposed to
be cuddling me,
in his bed.
This whole day
is wrong.
I hate it.
I hate this.
I miss him.

I look for you
every time I go
to Speedway
before class.
Hoping to see you buying an
extra large coffee,
and then smoke
a cigarette in my car.
I want to laugh with
you again.
It was like we never
stopped.
I could live off your
encouragement,
and your smile.

I just like to know
how you are.

I know I never should've
had any expectations,
but **** if I had
and if I was single and
invested,
I would be highly disappointed.
Dating *****.
Being single and getting to
know someone and letting
them know you,
and nothing coming from it
*****.
I truly empathize if you're
going through this
right now.
It's a stupid system.
I really am lucky to have
someone I can rely on
not to bail on me,
to love me for me.
I'm sorry but guys have
just turned into disappointments.
Stay single ladies.
The dating pool is full
of sharks.

The other night
as we both lay in bed,
him in his underwear
and socks
reading quietly,
me, in *******
and his t-shirt,
I tried imagining
what it was like,
back when he was just
the cute boy who
worked with me at
Burger King.
And I almost couldn't,
because I've called him
mine for so long.
It made me smile.
Even though it's been
less than a year,
somehow we have already
formed a routine
that creates true happiness.

I'm just
trying to
hold onto
humility, in a
world full of
dress codes
and
drug tests.

There really is no feeling
like the one I get,
whenever I hear or see
him.
Somehow I relive
every memory I have
in the time
it takes to say his name.
I miss everything that
he is, that he was.
The first time we hung out
we were drinking on
his couch,
until he took my beer,
set it down,
and started kissing me.
He was the typical bad boy,
funky black hair,
that he didn't take care of
but still looked great.
Tattoos all over his body,
his choice of vehicle was
a dirt bike,
didn't get along with
authority,
and he was wild in bed.

We probably could have
been a great couple.

But I never gave him a chance,
and that is a choice I
may regret forever.

Sometimes you
figure out why people
come into your life
and why they leave.
And then other times,
you never know.
We became toxic
to each other,
like a drug we couldn't
detox away,
no matter how hard
we try.
I still don't know why
he came into my life,
but I know why he left.
All I did was hurt him,
and all he did was hurt me.
Maybe it's better
this way.
Because when I hear
his name all I want
to do is throw up.

Every time I hear
Tom Petty's song about
Mary-Jane,
a memory shoves it's way
through the lyrics.
I flash back to last summer at
the height of the good times.
I'm in my best friend's car
in the passenger seat,
turned around watching
her friend play last dance on his
guitar and listening
to him sing.
And I must've been really
happy that day because
it's one of my most vivid memories.
We pulled into some race
track that I didn't even know
existed,
and I got out and sat on
the hood.
You're going to think
I'm an idiot,
but I swear this is how it
played out.
He rode up on his
dirt bike and stopped right in
front of me..
took off his helmet,
grabbed the cigarette
from my fingers,
and smiled at me.
He never looked better, and
I could still hear that song
in my head.
We all ended up back at his house
sitting in a circle,
smoking **** and getting
his dog high.

Because of that one memory,
I had a new favorite song.
Although now,
it just makes me sad,
and I wish I never tied
Iowa to those lyrics.

Oh I believe in yesterday*

Breakfast with The Beatles
will always remind me of my
favorite first date.
Good music,
good vibes,
good ****,
good coffee,
good conversation,
and a good person.

The sun was shining so bright
right next to me
that day,
that if it had been my last day
that would have been okay.

If I told him how much
I actually truly miss him he
wouldn't believe me.
I could message him and pour my
heart out all over his arms,
and he wouldn't believe me.
If I told him I miss the smell of
his room,
watching his meticulous, yet ***** hands work.
All of the answers and the knowledge
that he contained in that absolutely
beautiful misunderstood brain.
He wouldn't believe me,
because he believes that I discarded him
like a cigarette **** out of my window.
Hell, he may not believe me,
even if I mailed every poem I've ever
written about him to his address.
It would be a book by now.
He doesn't know how much I miss
the friend that cared for me when nobody else did.

I have never missed anybody for this amount of time.
But he was never just anybody to me,
he became everything.

On my way to work
I stopped by the Speedway to
get gas.
I pulled up to the pump next
to a pick up truck,
that was missing the back completely.
On my way out of the gas station
I recognized the guys who were waiting on their friend.
After walking around the back
of my car after pumping gas,
the guy on the passenger side
had the window down.
He smiled and said,
"We're going wheelin'"
I laughed and said, "Have fun."
He said, "you too."
I told him I'm going to work,
and he laughed a little.
He waved at me as I pulled away,
and I did too.
I left feeling happy,
to have such a nice, positive
interaction with someone I
once sat in high school classes with.
Good vibes.

I'm having cigarettes
and hot chocolate for lunch
today,
because once a month
Mother Nature comes around
and replaces my appetite
with the need to smash
things instead.
I'm sitting in my car
watching all the people
drive by and wishing
I was one of them,
because at least then I
wouldn't be at work right now.

I don't know
who I am.

I did it.
I saw him face to face.
I came over on a Thursday night
around 10:30,
only expecting to buy
some of his **** treats.
He was just as good looking
as I remember,
and just as great as I remember.
He has odd beautiful hair.
Dark brown, shaved down
short on the sides,
a small ponytail on the back,
with bangs.
He has new art on his arms,
and chest,
but he has the same soft eyes.

And those hands.

It was natural and we talked,
and caught up.
It was great to know that
we are still okay.
That we can fall back into that
natural vibe and smile
at each other .

I have no other words
to use than great.
Tonight was a good night.

In case you were wondering,
there is not a person who
doesn't have to work,
who is out at 5:30 in the morning
on a Sunday in Ohio.
I drive by houses with lights
off as I'm on my way
to work,
and I am jealous,
and I wish I was
asleep or smoking a bowl
on a really comfy couch.
Pretty much,
just not doing what I'm doing.
I hate my job.

I really need to find a change.

I still have the need
to text you at 2:53
in the morning
just to see if you'll answer.
I still miss the way you
always had the smell
of alcohol on your breath.
That incredibly sweet,
real, sad smile that you
only let me see a few times.
I still miss the way it
felt when you're arms
were around me,
and your breath was on
my neck.
The sound of a motorcycle
makes my heart stop,
and the taste of beer
and cigars make me
miss your lips.

All 5 of my senses
miss him..