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

I decided to put sticky notes
with positive words written on them,
up beside my bed.
In hopes that encouragement can
help me.
I've been stuck inside a negative
purgatory for days,
maybe even weeks,
and I'm done with that.
Or I want to be.
I've done cried,
pulled out almost all of my hair,
let myself be angry,
and then I ran out of complaints.
If I want a positive life,
I have to think positive thoughts.

Please, wish me good luck.

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.

Waiting is the worst part.

Waiting to clock in,
to clock out,
for a response.
Waiting for pay day,
to sleep,
to smoke a cigarette,
or a bowl.
Waiting for that minute of
happiness during a day that
feels like it's never going to end,
yeah, that's the worst part.

It feels good to know
that you were suffering
through the same pain,
as I was
at one point in time.
To know what you were
really thinking,
instead of the rumors
and whispers I pick up
on the street.
I'm peeling back the
layers of unspoken thoughts
that have built up over time,
in hopes that one night
I can go to sleep without
any regrets.

Today I was made aware
of someone who battles
with the same thing I do.
Instantly, I felt so much
sadness for her,
knowing that she struggles
the way I do and feels
the same pain and hopelessness.
I just hope she has an outlet,
like writing has been for me.
It's funny,
that I have known her
for awhile and never knew.
Just like me,
she has become the master
of faking it.
It pains me,
because she is still in High school
and is still so young.
I just want to tell her to
not let it hold her back,
or destroy any chance at
confidence and happiness.
She can still find love,
someone will want to help,
and support her and make her
feel beautiful every day.

She told me something that
has warmed my heart more than
anything else has in a really long time.

She said, *it's good to know I'm not alone.

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

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

As I pulled up
my heart immediately
remembered that
blue Bonaroo bandana,
and that old red car.
He was standing in front
of it,
with the hood up.
I knew he had to see me.
I'd be lying if I said
I didn't care,
when I didn't see his
face light up with a smile,
and his hand waving hello.
I didn't know that
this is how things are.
No longer greeting each other
with a smile, and
its been a long time.
What hurts the most,
is that he lied,
when he told me he'd
always care about me,
because now I am nothing
more than a stranger.
I guess he's just another
cigarette brand that
I can't smoke anymore.

I hate to only talk
about you,
when I'm sure you
wanna hear about me.
But, I can't ignore
that old familiar feeling,
just as the rain slows down,
and the right song
plays on the radio.
I swear,
it's like you're there
beside me.

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've had this whole other life
without you in it for so long now,
which is something I once thought
I could never do.
But I missed you.
I don't blame you for the silence
that fell between us for over 365 days.
I don't think I'd want to talk to me either.
I never thought about how you must feel.
I guess it's because I never knew how you felt, about me.
What a strange time in our lives huh?
Now, it feels like nothing but a really really good dream.
I want you to be happy,
because I am.
Not all the time, but happiness
usually seems to find me.
And yes, he is a big part of that.
I know I will be heartbroken and sick
all over again when some girl blows through the doors and is everything you once thought I was,
but I have no right.
I guess I just want it all.
But, I've still never come up with the right words that would properly express how deeply sorry I will be for the rest of my time.

I look forward to going to
sleep at night,
because that's when you're there.
I can talk to you,
and be with you.
And for, what is probably
only ten minutes of my life,
it feels real and it feels good.
I know it's sad to look forward
to my dreams and live them
as good as real life feels,
but it's the truth.

I guess I just miss you.

Sometimes I feel so
****** up,
because I can't get him
out of my head.
It has been so long
since we last spoke,
and even longer since we
were good.
So how come
a year, and a lifetime
of changes later,
can I not get over him?
Hearing his name or
seeing his face still makes
me feel a bit anxious,
because I want to know
how he is.

I mean,
I know that we have wrecked
every chance we could have had,
and I know that he was probably
over me,
before this summer even started.
So what is wrong with me?

B
    R
E
      A
K    

  F
A
    S
T

WITH

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

I have to start over.
Almost two years
of writing
for nothing.
My heart is broken
in a way,
that those poems
that I poured my
life into
will never be published.
Everything I ever
wrote about Iowa
and my sunshine
is gone.
But I was told that
it was creepy and disturbing.
I can't even express myself
any more.
I don't even know if
I want to any more.
I am officially depressed.

I came to work
really ******.
There was no way
to hide it.
Ya know,
when your eyes
are impossible
to open wide,
and totally bloodshot.

But now my high has
gone away,
and I'm starving,
or maybe its the munchies.
A nap sounds like a dream
come true.

Maybe I should stop
smoking *** before I go
to work until 1 a.m,
with 7$ to my name.

Nahhh.. **** that :)

I can't believe what I just
remembered.
And I can't believe I ever
forgot.
He used to call me wormy,
because I moved around so
much to get comfortable.
I can actually remember
the first time he said it.
I could hear the smile in his
voice as his arms were
wrapped around me.
He was the best at cuddling.
He would stay like that all night.
He said,
"I should start calling you wormy."
I laughed and asked why.
"because, you can never stay still."
I remember telling him I liked it,
and he told me I was weird.
But I could still hear his smile.

If I walk out the door,
you should know it doesn't mean
I'm leaving.
It means, I'll be back.
I don't plan on breaking
your heart,
but sometimes I fear
that you'll do just that
to mine.
It won't be because you
leave me,
or cheat on me,
or move far away.
It'll be because you
don't catch up to my dreams.
I have so many hopes
for the future,
and I can't help but worry
that you won't turn out to be
everything that I hoped
you could be.

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.

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.

Lately,
I feel like a very
small fish,
in the world's biggest
pond.
I'm so
overwhelmed and it's
taking it's toll,
see the dark circles
underneath my eyes
and whatever this look is
that has been stuck to
my face for weeks.
Working 80 hrs and getting
less than half of that
in sleep has made me into
somebody that I don't like.
I don't even care about
smoking *** anymore,
because I already
look like I'm ****** up.
So much for summer time,
and the beach.
Being an adult *****.
Really bad.
So if you're 17,
I probably hate you,
because I envy
that carefree ignorance
you carry.
Don't grow up.
Go find Peter Pan,
better learn how
to fly,
because
The breakfast club was
right after all.

When you grow up
*your heart dies

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.

I thought of you today.
I can't even describe
what it felt like.
It was as though
I saw you,
and we talked to
each other the way
we used to.
I felt like I did
when you loved me.
So I cried my
eyes out as
Lying eyes
by The Eagles played
while I drove home
with forgotten tears
in my eyes.
What I would give
to just simply
talk to you again,
is more then what I
could ever offer.

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.

I think I'm a little crazy,
but I'm not the only one.
My lifestyle is unstable.
Waking up early to go to
work after not having a full
8 hours,
drinking monster,
smoking ****.
Barely eating,
and then when you do
it's fast food.
I can't help but think that
I won't be able to do this
when I'm older.
There's no way that adults
live this way.
But I'm 19.
I'm still young.

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.