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

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

It is very simple
really.
Give your all to
someone,
and hope they do
the same.
Sometimes it's hard,
and temptation
is always two
steps away,
but treat your significant
other as you
want to be treated.
Give them all of
your wants,
needs and
desires.
And just L O V E

Maybe I'm a compulsive liar.
I just lied to my boyfriend
about not being at home already,
because I got off work an hour ago,
and could've come over,
but instead went home.
And then I got caught in my lie,
and talked my way out of it.
And now I feel so guilty,
because I know what he's thinking,
when really I'm just insane.
And I can't say that either because
then he'll wonder what else I've been
hiding.
And if I wasn't actually hiding
something that wouldn't be a problem.
My conscience is too good.
You would think that by now
I wouldn't learned to stop
lying.

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..

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.

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.

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.

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.

Why does ***** go hand in hand
with that ache in the pit of your
stomach.
It's like it's filling up
the empty space someone left
there.
I guess I just feel sick
because I don't understand
what happened.
What did I do?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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..

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.

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.

Tonight I am miss
Mary Jane.

Wh o a r e y  o    u u u

B
    R
E
      A
K    

  F
A
    S
T

WITH

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

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.

I was listening to the radio
this morning and someone repeated
a quote
they'd heard,
You can't make old friends.
So, call someone you love
they said.
Even for five minutes.
Funny, that I've tried to do this
very thing with him before.
Just calling to say I'm sorry.
But it's too late.
That's probably what he'd
say anyways.
Although, is it ever really too late
to make things right?

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.

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

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.

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.

I always knew that 4/20
was a special day.
I woke up two minutes after
he said,
I miss you too.
I have nothing to smoke on
today,
but those words take me higher
than any **** I've ever tried.
Or maybe it's because my
20th birthday is a week from today.
Like an early present I've
been waiting for.

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 know it may seem like
nothing.
Or maybe I'm just
a ******.
But either way, he
wanted to see how I was.
How I am.
I knew I couldn't be the only one.
He misses me.
I knew I wasn't crazy.
It's been over 10 months since
we last spoke,
but I haven't forgotten.
And apparently he hasn't either.
This is seriously good news.
Everything works itself out.

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!

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.

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.

I had a conversation that
really opened my eyes to something
I didn't realize I was missing.
Maybe I really can't forget you
because you never told me
to move on.
The type of connection
I had with you wasn't one
that could just be left unanswered.
You never said to go ahead,
and give up.
So maybe that's why I still have
this question locked away in a box
that I don't open, because it's
too dusty.

Do you still want to be with 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.

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.

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.

I sit here on my bed,
in my hot room,
with a 1.5 liter bottle of wine
beside me.
Im going to drink the rest,
in hopes of sleep,
and because the bottle is cold
against my legs.
Here I am.
In my natural habitat,
surrounded by uncomfortable
feelings and anger.
Charles Bukowski lays open
in front of me,
but I've already read it.
Besides I am supposed to be
asleep right now.
I won't even tell you how early
I have to be awake.
It just sounds pathetic.

I'm not depressed, just over it.
And I'm okay with that.