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.

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.

Maybe it's because
change is on the horizon,
and a new start is
about to begin,
but I realized that
all I do is pity you.
When something doesn't
work out the way you
wanted,
you go right back
to your old ways,
as though it's actually
going to fix all
of your problems this time.
You can't be clean for
3 days and expect the
world to see you
differently.
It's a commitment.
To yourself,
to become a better
person.
If life *****,
then do something
about it.
I did.
So what's your
excuse.

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.

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.

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.

We were sitting on
the floor of his laundry
room,
in tears as I was
trying to end it.
But all I wanted
to do was kiss him.
So I scooched closer
and I did.
He asked me why
I did that and
the answer was easy.
I said,
I love you.
So we smoked a few
bowls and talked for
a few hours,
and we ended up
in his bed.
We spent the night
kissing, and
crying.
Making love and
making up.
It was all just
a mis-understanding.

Maybe I secretly
end up setting my
expectations too
high,
because I always
wake up on
my birthday feeling
lonely and disappointed.
I just wish I could
feel special and important
for just one day.

I kept asking him,
"Why aren't you still mad?"
And he kept saying,
"Because I love you and I'm
not going to hold a grudge."

And for some reason that made
me less angry,
and more sad.

I don't know if I could
ever collaborate with another
writer.
Unless they get inspired the
way I do.
Smoking a bowl,
reading,
a perfect sunrise or sunset,
the flick of a candle in the dark,
and the way his arms feel around me
after being apart for way
too long.
Otherwise the whole thing
would make me sick,
and probably ruin everything
about writing.

Honestly I feel like
my life is falling apart.
Everything good I had
is gone.
I'm right back to where
I was a year ago
except this time I have
no Tv to fill my nights.
I'm gonna have to get used
to spending a lot of time
alone.
I'll just always be high
and continue this
shopping addiction
in hopes that new clothes
will make me feel important.

And do whatever I can
to enjoy constant solitude.

I hate this town.
I hate that I still
******' live here.

And now that it's
summer time,
I am constantly reminded
of him.
A boy that I was
head over heels
obsessed about,
out of nowhere.

Everybody asked me
what I was doing
with him,
and I could never think
of what to say.
But the bottom
of my heart
could only think,
I love you.

We connected,
we just got each other,
never pretending to be
anyone else.

I know every dark secret,
heart break,
suicide attempt,
because he told me.
We really knew each other.

And it was the scariest
thing on earth,
so I ran away,
and he disappeared.

I never told
him
that I  l o v e d  h i m .

There's nothing like smoking
a blunt on the drive home.
It's fun to share,
but even better to have to
yourself.
Just the road,
music and it.

Oh yeah,
there's that moment of happiness
today.

Good night sunshine,
I always hope to see you
in the mornings.

I'm sorry I got high
and my fingers can't
stop writing sentences
about him.
But he is my muse.
The perfect amount
of true insanity,
in this corrupt universe.
And I just wanna tell him
everything.

I've tried for days to
write something
beautiful about you,
but I can't find the words
to say.
Because I haven't seen you,
or heard your voice.
But I know that when that day
comes I will practically
write a novel.

You may not know
how much my soul
adores hearing you say
that my words have
power.
That is all I have ever
wanted..
To connect with somebody
through my writing,
and leave a lasting impression
on you.
I'd be lying if I said
I don't still look for your
car at Speedway
before I pull in.
Or skip that glance
as I drive by your road
after work,
because this time,
I might see you.
In a way it's like you're
my guardian angel
who's still here on earth,
because you are the only
one who believes in me,
and what I have to say.
You lift me up right before
I'm about to give up.
Maybe that's why I have
always called you my sunshine.

You make me happy,
*when skies are grey.

I literally just
have to keep saying
good vibes right now,
otherwise I'm going
to scream.

What matters most is how well you walk through the fire.*
     -Charles Bukowski <3

Today I will be at work,
but my soul will be off
somewhere in my car,
packed with my old friends.
Enjoying this nice weather in
December.
I'll be reliving old memories,
and ones that never got to be.
Good music,
good bud,
good friends and
good vibes.

I think,
what I need more than
anything are friends.

I wake up at 9 am,
and slump out of bed.
Shuffle down stairs to the
bathroom and shower.
It takes me around 15 minutes to
blow dry and tame my hair,
before I brush my teeth and
put makeup on.
Smoke a cigarette,
get dressed,
then put my hair up
and savor the time I have before
I have to get in my car and
drive 20 miles to start my 8
hour shift.
But today;
I read.
Charles Bukowski.
The only art form that connects
with me,
and doesn't make me feel
so bad that I don't have it figured out.
But that only lasts 30 minutes,
and now it's time to go to work.

If I
didn't write
poetry,
I would
l
o
     sss
e
e

my
m i n d ..

He makes me feel
hopeful that one day
everything will be better.
And I love him for it.

Some people never
click with their
parents.
Even after the
terrible teenage
stage ends.
Turns out I'm one
of those people.
I'm a hated stranger
in my own home.
And no matter how hard
I try to make my
parents happy,
it's never good enough.
Somewhere along the
way I became the
disappointment of
the family.
But their doubt
only makes me want
to work harder,
to prove them all
wrong.
I need to get out of here.

I was never your valentine,
and you were never mine.
We didn't make it past
October.

I wonder who you think of
on that fourteenth day of
February,
when you see the words,
*I love you.

I'm going to try to be an adult.
I'm going to try to not freak out.
I'm going to try to be smart.
I'm going to try to not miss my mom so much.
I'm going to do this because I can.

It isn't okay to leave me where
you left me.
Act like I didn't care.
To disappear without a word,
leave me in the dark,
and stranded in a town full of people that always leaves me feeling lonely.
That was the last time I will ever get my heart broken by you again.
The last time I let you impact me.
Shake me. Change me.
If you don't want to talk,
then let's never talk again.
I want these to be the last words I ever write about your miserable existence.
You weren't the same anyways.
I didn't change. You did.
It's easy to hate you,
so that's what I'll do.
Because loving you is a waste of a dreamer's time.

Sometimes I can't tell if
I like the way my life is
going or,
if I hate it.
And no matter how much
the hopeless romantic
inside me wants to
see what could be,
I can't get over how it feels
to lay next to him.
And I'm not exactly ready to
let go of the boy who
looks so cute with his hood
up,
and when he is laying there
asleep.
Lately I have began thinking
that comfortable isn't what
I wanted,
but he's not just a boyfriend,
he's my friend,
and I don't have enough of
those here lately.

It's as though someone
tied bricks to my feet,
and threw me into
a pool.
I can see everything
dissapearing in front
of my eyes,
but I can't stop the
water from filling
my lungs.

Throughout all of my visits
to Fort St. Clair
I have started noticing
that I'm not the only
person there who is alone,
sitting in their cars just
staring through the windshield
into nature.
I think my town needs
that spot.
So all the people can go there
once in awhile and sit in
peace, or sit
sick with themselves for never
getting out of this town.
I'm there to have peace
and smoke ***.
Maybe they are too.

One thing that I hope
never changes is the
way I feel when I
lay down next to you,
and lay my head on your
chest like it's a pillow.
I hope that you always
miss me when I'm gone,
and smile when you see me.
I hope that we always love
each other as much as we do
right now.

I read something somewhere
that said; God takes unnecessary
people out of your life,
so as not to hinder your path.
But I don't think he was the one
that made us the way we are today.
In fact, if anything he gave me so
many chances.
I made mistakes, and so did he.
But God was definitely not involved.

He wouldn't have been able
to keep up with us.

I felt that old feeling
I used to get when
you are around.
Positivity.
Happiness.
And how appropriate
that we ran into each other
on such a nice day.
After all, you are my sunshine.

I'm having one of those
days where I spend
the hours reminiscing
in my head.
Probably because I have
nothing to do after work.
I miss the days where I
didn't have a boyfriend,
but I had friends.
I had people.
I didn't feel so lost when
I had to be alone.
And I'm kinda mad at myself,
because it's my own fault
for not having anyone in
my life.
And now that I can't see
my boyfriend as often,
I'm stuck in my own head
even more,
trying to escape by
smoking *** and watching
Orange is the new black.
But seasons end.
And then what will I do?

It felt good to lay down
next to him and know
that I didn't have to
get up.

To fall asleep with him there.

He calms me down and
makes me smile
and tells me I look so cute
when I'm mad.

He doesn't even have to tell me
he loves me,
because he shows me every day.

I wrote him
a mess of run on sentences
in a message on Facebook,
one day after work when
the beer gave me false courage.
I haven't read it since
I released it from my grasp.
I never want to.
It's been days,
and he's had no reaction.
He probably doesn't care.
I feel like an idiot,
but my drunk words
were true words.

I miss being alone,
and taking time for myself.
I miss sitting on the couch,
sharing a bowl with my lips
and catching up on a show that I love.
I miss watching the sun set,
and not saying a word.
Taking walks, or going on a cruise.
True peace and quiet.
I miss smoking in my car at
the fort at nine in the morning.
Taking my time after a shower,
because I have nowhere to go.
Greed and gluttony used to be my lovers,
spending all of my money on things that I want,
whenever I want it.

I miss all of the time that I once
thought was being wasted.

Happy spots are rare to find,
but when you do,
claim them as your own.

I used to really believe that
I was meant to be
with him.
Everything fell into place,
everything felt right,
everything was different, and better.
For once, I couldn't sleep because
I couldn't wait to wake up
and see him again.
Everything was perfect.
But, that was the thing.
Nothing that is real is ever perfect.
I can't apologize or explain
my actions because it was like,
I had no control.
I thought that I actually knew
what LOVE is...
but what did I really know?

Since it's over a year later and I
don't have him.