I loved you because
you are that little boy
in the picture frame
on the wall in your living room.
You are the only one
who didn't turn your back
on me when I needed someone most.
You are the guy
that just wants to take care
of his dad and doesn't
even think about his needs.
You are fearless and honest.
I loved you because you
were everything that everyone
thought you weren't.
I loved you because I
knew *you.

It is 1:22 am
and I am at work.
Completely bored
out of my mind,
with nothing left to do.
I can hear the clock
ticking slowly.
There are 4 empty
desks around me.
Everybody else works
during the day.
I got locked out during
my smoke break,
and scared the ****
out of the only other
lady here.
when I peeked my head
through her window.

I have a bowl calling
my name at home.

I still have half an hour left.

If you don't mind,
I'd like to join you by
your side.

-Tim Burton

I finally caved and dyed
my hair again,
after months of letting it go,
just too lazy to care.
I came out of the shower
with the same off blonde
color I've had for years.
No roots!

I should be in bed,
but it's always hard to sleep
alone after laying next to someone
the night before.
I enjoy being by myself,
but I've never enjoyed an empty bed.

He wakes me up at 3 in the morning
with kisses that turn into more,
we smoke cigarettes,
and I go back to sleep as he
continues to stay up into
the night.
I like it this way.

Not the way it is now.

Have you ever just
wanted to cry so badly,
but you can't?
Like, stuff that usually
would bring a tear to your
eye, just doesn't anymore.
But you're not invincible to
all of it.
You just save it.
Stick it in that file cabinet
with all the other ****
in it in the back of your head.
Until one day,
it's like something happens
and all the people in the office
inside your brain just pick
up handfuls of files
and toss them in the air.
And you stand there and watch
as all of that paper just
sinks to the floor.
But eventually you have to
clean up the mess and throw
it away,
and all is okay;
and then your file cabinet
is empty.
Until it starts to get full again..

I don't think I will ever
lose that wil e coyote feeling.
Always on the chase for things
that I want,
a spontaneous urge to run away,
or live in destruction.
I blame this on my age,
but sometimes I wonder if
it's just who I am.

It was him.
I woke up to a friend request.

I've been waiting for this day
for 6 months.

I think I'm finally
ready to move on.
It was so easy to be
wanderlust when I didn't
know where you are.
But I do now.
It would never be the same again,
even if we both wanted it to be.
Our lives have moved in
two opposite directions,
and I can see clearer now
that we will never be an us.
It's sad but true.
I'm letting go of you.

If something ever actually
went right, and
turned out the way it should,
then I guess that's what they call
death.
Because nothing is ever good,
or right in life.
You change jobs in hopes that
it makes you happy,
and makes you money,
only to find out you never should have
come here.
You follow your brain instead
of your heart,
and you end up loving two people
at the same time.

I am beginning to think that
everything and everyone is too
good to be true.
Actually,
being alive is too good to be true.

So.
Technically I've been kicked
out of my first place.
Not on the street because
I couldn't pay the bills,
but because I am not
welcome anymore.
I'm going to try to be back
at my parents by today.
Honestly it's fine.
Just means that now I'll have
a lot more money.
But what does bug me is how
I am so unwelcome everywhere
I go.
I'm sure my parents aren't thrilled
to have me back,
my room mates booted me,
my co-workers pretend I'm
not there,
and my boyfriend doesn't care
that I wasted 30 miles of gas
to pick him up last night,
only to find an empty building,
and no phone call.

But it's all okay.
I tried it out the other day,
and deciding to just "wing it",
worked out pretty well.
I ended up with a 12$ bowl
that changes color,
and a great mood.

So, I have a new plan.

There's no other light
in the room besides the cherry
burning the end of my cigarette.
Just like the rest,
I write better in the dark.
Laying in this bed, and
staring out the window,
I realized I'm living,
but not really; in
my own prison cell.
Trapped and stuck in one
place, unable to move on.

He said he missed me
too..
He missed me.
That's all I ever needed
to hear.

I drive through the town
that helped us meet;
every day on my way to
work,
just hoping to catch a glimpse
of you.
I thought I saw your car at
the gas station that I didn't
need to go to,
so I pulled in and my heart was
pounding in my chest.
I walked in and knew instantly that
you weren't there.
But I just had to see.

ha.
what kind of idiot am I?
I messaged him and asked,
Can we talk sometime?
And a little part of me
really expected him to answer.

But of course he isn't going to.
He has nothing left to say.
He is the one that said we shouldn't
be friends.

But god ******,
this isn't fair.
It's not what I wanted.

Why can't I get some closure?
Why does it have to end like this?
Why does it have to end at all..

B
    R
E
      A
K    

  F
A
    S
T

WITH

T
  H
      E
B
      E
           A
                T
                   L
               E
            S
.
.
.
.

I dream about you every night
as though I'm trying to
make up for what should've been,
even if it was only for a little while.
I made the wrong choice way
back then.
There is no way of going back
and changing my own mind now,
but a girl can dream.

I feel a bit empty,
because today should be
the day I go back to
school.
Instead I'm sitting
in the parking lot at work,
because I lost my
financial aid.
To be honest,
I don't know what to do
next.
I'm kind of waiting
on the universe to give
me a sign.

This is the most depressing
time of my young life.

Every day I wake up,
it's a struggle to survive,
to get high,
to smile honestly.

But it's perfect writing material.

The misery of working a full time job,
trying to succeed in College,
while maintaining friendships, and relationships.

Impossible, by the way.

They don't tell you this when you're young,
in fear that you'll actually go ahead
and take that final solution,
but it doesn't always get better..

in fact, sometimes it gets worse.

But this time
there's no finish line and a flag
that says, "You're done!"

Because this is the real world,
and in the real world you don't get
a ribbon just for showing up.

The rain finally came,
and cooled everything off.
I now look forward to it
because I know that it means
I will sleep very well.
The fan blows on me,
standing beside the bed,
with the window open behind it.
Rain air.
Delicious.
Sleep is working his way
up to my eyes;
they are wanting to close.
So, I will sleep,
and it will storm.

Lately I've been
writing poems
and then forgetting
about them as soon as
I hit the send button.
Usually the words
hang around inside my head
and I obsessive over it,
reading the poem to myself
multiple times
without actually looking at it,
as though I have to remember
or it was never there.

But my writing recently
has felt dry,
and sporadic.

I can't stop pulling
out my hair.

I just had to stop and delete
everything I had written
because when I read back over it,
I realized I was about to
try and put garbage out
and hopefully get a like.
I apologize anyway.
I just feel different these
days, like something's got
ahold of my spirit.
I feel like I'm a few more
bad weeks away from
having a mental breakdown.
Caution: keep the ***** away from me, otherwise you'll have a
sobbing nineteen year old
wreck in your lap.
I don't know how to end
this poem because I haven't
come to a conclusion.

As writers, we know
that it usually takes
a storm in order
to create a rainbow.
After the smoke clears
and you're laying there
with the blood from
your heart on
the sheets...
that's when you
start to write.
When you're looking
for someone at
the bottom of a
bottle,
or smoking your
second joint,
you write.
When you feel like
quitting that minimum
wage job
because you haven't slept
a full 8 hours since
last Halloween,
you write.
Because it's how we
breathe, cope, not end up
in the back of a cop car.
We hope that somehow the
words we spill onto
a piece of paper will
actually fix the problem
this time.

I got a little too high
before work today.
So I'm sitting here,
in my car in the parking lot
trying to sober up my
eye ***** as quickly as I can.
But I'm excited to get back to
work, that weekend was too
looooonnggg.
And there's something comforting
about routine.
Besides my outfit
I look terrible today.
I shoulda washed my hair,
and I shouldn't have gotten
high.
But,

It's a Monday.

Tonight I am miss
Mary Jane.

Wh o a r e y  o    u u u

I saw a rainbow on my way
home tonight.
I can't think of a better way to end
such an important day for love.
Equality matters.
It felt good to come home
to my house in a new country
where love is being celebrated.
My heart is glowing for all of those that have fought so hard for the right
to happiness.
And for my brother.
This one is for him.

I am the person
who says that
New Years resolutions are
*******,
but I think that on this
lonely, sick night
I need to hope for a better future.
Maybe it's okay that I'm
ending the year still recovering
from the flu,
smoking 2014's last bowl,
and not feeling like my life
is where I want it to be.
They say once you hit the bottom,
that there is no where to go
but
u
      p.
So,
my New Years resolution
is to allow myself to be happy,
and not allow anyone else to
prevent it, or hold me back.
To make myself proud,
and to take more time to
take care of my
mind,
body,
and
soul.

The holidays always make
me feel lonely.
I wish he was with me.
I wish I was with him.
I'm thankful for the love
I have,
because there is no one else
like him.

It's the moments
when we are
holding hands
in the store,
as I help him
pick stuff out.
When we're dancing
in the car to the radio,
and kissing at every
stop sign.
When we're making love,
and when he gets me high.
That's when I'm happy.
I love this boy who works
with me at Burger King.
In so many ways we are
very different,
and he makes me crazy.
But when he says,
I love you baby
I melt once again
and everything is okay.
We are okay.

Yes,
I am devastated,
angry, and hopeless.
I am almost 20 years old.
I am almost 20 years old.
I say this about once a day,
not to brag,
but because I am terrified
about where my life is
at this age.
I am nothing.
And there's no nice way to say it.
And absolutely no answers
on how to change it.

I wanna smoke
cigarettes in the
bath tub.
Lie on my bed
wearing nothing
but a robe.
Spike up my hair
just because I can.
Drive on the little
amount of gas
I have, just to see
how far I get.
I wanna eat breakfast
at the Waffle House
tomorrow morning
with some one,
not say a word and
have that be okay.
I want to dye my
hair black,
because I don't
think my current
situation is me.
I want to smoke
**** all day
and blow my pay check
on cigars and bad food.
I want to wake up
one day and for once,
actually have all of
these things that
I want.

I think it's sort of weird
how I've created this
character of him in my
mind.
Where he is everything I
want him to be,
and the truth.
I was thinking that maybe
I'm becoming this weird,
stalker type person,
but now I realize that he
is that place in my mind
that I can go
when I need to find happiness
or solitude.

It's nice to go there.

Yesterday I
took him to
the hospital.
When I showed up
at his house he
was shaking,
and I could tell
he was in pain.
We got lost on the
way there but it
turned into a
fun road trip.
I laid my head on
his shoulder in the
waiting room,
and we played
I spy,
as we waited for
the doctor.
They said that it
was nothing serious,
so we ran to the car
when we were released,
and pulled into
the Taco Bell next door.
When we got back to his
house we got
high with the clouds,
and landed in his bed.
We had a perfect day,
that I never wanted to end.
And I fell even more
in love with the boy
I took to the hospital.

I've been thinking about you
a lot lately.
Daisy day dreaming about what
our life could be like.
Long nights spent talking and laughing,
shared with good ****,
and drinks.
But most of all, happiness.
A n d
    Y     o  u.
a n   d
YOU!

I think he was trying
to ask me how I missed him.
Like, as a friend or something else.
I asked what he meant,
and he steered away from the question.
I was glad he did,
because I wasn't sure how
to answer.
I might have to say both.

I wonder how he misses me.

I wish I could say
I don't give a fuuck.
You all expect too much.
I'm still new to this,
I'm 19,
I failed out of college.
I don't know any of this stuff.
And sometimes when they
talk it turns into a
foreign language.
I just want to yell at
everybody to back off.
Give me a chance.
Fuuuuccckk
But their job is to hate
on me..
But today I really could care
less.. I'm flying.