I’ll still love you long after
we’re gone.
When we’re just two names forgotten
with time.
Yours will stay wherever mine goes.
Wherever that is.
I’ll find you again.

***** fingernails
and cheap wine.
Fleetwood Mac and chicken tenders.
Snapping you little flirty faces
saying how much I’d like to make out.
Feels like we’re a couple of teenagers drunk in like.

Just a silly girl who can’t wait to see you
and pretend you don’t know what I look like
in the dark.

What is wrong with me that I still love you?
I still love you more than a singer needs to sing.
More than a painter needs paint,
more than flowers need the rain,
more than Bonnie loved Clyde,
more than the sun needs the moon.

If you called me up and said, “come back”
I would drop everything.
I love you even though you are why I hate myself.

The ghosted messages
still sit there cold and unforgiving.
I wish my brain could let me forget
let me enjoy what I’m doing now,
who cares what you’re doing now.

I bet you’ve found the girl of your dreams.
*******, a perfect *** that she’s worked for in the gym for 10 years.
Long blonde hair and clear skin.
Tall and tan because she grew up in Florida.
I bet she’s rich from daddy’s money,
and barely calls you because she’s “independent.”
I bet you make sure she finishes every time you make love and are gentle and kind in a way you never were with me.
I bet you’re already planning on marrying that girl some day.

I hope she breaks your heart.
I hope she cheats on you with everyone you know.
Your best friend, someone you trust.
I hope you can’t sleep or eat and cry for months.
I hope she ruins your self esteem and makes you swear off ever trying again.
Like you did to me.

I know you apologized and swore you’d never do anything so horrible again, and I wish I could say I’m happy for the girl who will get everything I ever wanted..
but it doesn’t help knowing I’m the only one you ever felt deserved to be treated like garbage.

I hope she ***** your dad.

I don’t talk about it much,
because I can’t figure out how to write
about it.
It still stings like a thousand bees,
takes my breath away like a kick to the gut.
I can feel my brain get lost,
“wait, what’d you say, sorry.”

I am an alien among humans,
like I’m acting in a movie it doesn’t feel like I’m sitting there.
If I’m not busy busy busy I am a fly
at a bar drinking as if it could be my last;
and then I’m sick.

I need a doctor to remove this scar tissue around my heart.
It didn’t heal right, or maybe it’s not done yet.
What do I do in the meantime?

Sometimes I think it’s gone.
That maybe it got up in the mountains
of Virginia,
or left on the bench at a roadside diner.
I feel so weightless without it,
like I can do anything, be anything,
freedom.

But it’s never really gone.
It always hitches a ride or grabs onto
the bottom of my pants dragging in the dirt.

That little ****** named Heartbreak.
He still knows how to weigh me down.

I’m supposed to be going through the drag of orientation.
Sat in front of a computer, watch these videos.
Come get me when you’re done.
But I can’t stop thinking about him.
Time has been my worst enemy,
moving so fast taking me farther and farther away from those days we were together.
Too far away to touch anymore.
But the memories are still there.
Dimmer, foggy and like a lemon.

It was nice in the way it felt quiet
even with the roar of the wind.
I had no choice but to wrap my arms
around him and lay my head on the back of his shoulder.
He smelled good.
I noted that it would be a memory I would think about when my hair turns gray.
I used to ride on the back of a motorcycle with a guy, and smoked joints in the woods.
It wasn’t even that it was romantic,
it felt sweet.
Gentle and kind like this man I was trusting with my life.
We’ve come and gone into each other’s lives but that feeling of comfort is always there.

I’m scared.
I always have been.
I knew from a young age that the world
was cruel and unfair and I never wanted
to be a part of it.
I never saw myself being part of it.
Until he came along and made me feel safe
like he would protect me from
whatever the great IT is I’m afraid of.
I don’t like to admit that I am so familiar
with fear, so I pretend to be brave.
But I’m scared.

I woke up angry.
None of this is right.
It’s all wrong.
I’m done with the universe *******
with me,
giving me little hits of serotonin
only to end up smashing my face
in the dirt.
So I dealt with it the only way anyone with the same blood as me knows how.
I stopped by a gas station at 9:30 in the morning
and grabbed 2 shots of liquor.
I downed the first one and a big swig of the next.
I’m sitting in the lobby of my therapist’s office
waiting to tell her how ****** everything has been since last I saw her.
Sorry my breath smells.

He said,
“I keep picturing you looking at yourself
in the mirror and hating everything you see.”

Maybe he knows me better than I thought.
Because when I do catch a glimpse of myself
I don’t like that girl.
Her eyes are too deep, too sad.

I have so much love to give,
and I give it to him everyday.
But he doesn't accept it or give it back.
I still try though.
I wrote him a poem and sent it to him,
just inside stuff that explains how much I miss him.
I don't expect him to even address it and
that's okay.
Because I have so much love to give
and I will keep giving it because I don't know
how not to.

The pair to my peach.
I can’t be one without two.
This cute fantasy world doesn’t
exist without you.
I can barely hear the foxes mreeping,
they don’t speak much anymore.
The orchard has been left unattended,
peaches left to rot on the ground.
I didn’t know it was there
until you showed me.
But I am not enough to keep it alive

You make me feel so ******.
I don't know why I deal with it.
There is something wrong with me that I
keep doing this painful dance with you.
Lately you've been even farther away than you
already are in Florida.
It feels like lying, sneaking, and ghosting.
But I cant understand why.
Honesty is all we have in a relationship that
doesn't even involve seeing each other but...
I don't think honesty has been here for a long time.
I see you drifting farther out to sea,
and I can't hang onto you.
It hurts too much but maybe so would letting you go.

There’s a version of me somewhere
that is a little goth princess.
Or as a fairy somewhere pretty.
Like a bumblebee just floating along.
Or as country as a scarecrow,
homegrown and strong.
Or maybe I’d live in the city,
turtlenecks and glasses and coffee.
Hopping the train to work at the newspaper.
Or maybe I could try to like me.
A girl who’s not really a girl anymore,
and is completely lost.
Who knows who she’ll be.

I already know I won’t get to ask.
At least not until later tonight,
because he won’t text me back until about 1 maybe.
It’s 11:14 right now.
By the time I hear from him I’ll be so relieved
just to get a response that I’ll chicken out.
I also don’t want to make him mad with that question as soon as he gets off work.
But my mind is spinning and sinking and I’m freaking out and I started drinking 30 minutes ago because I don’t know what else to do.
I’m prepared for him to say no.
But god I hope he says yes.

I want to trust him but my brain is telling me not to.
I’m scared because he could easily lie to me
or hide stuff from me and I’d never know.
He’s thousands of miles away and sometimes
He’s sweet and sometimes I don’t know what’s going on.
It’s making me feel crazy.
Suddenly I’m not even sure I’m his girlfriend.
He said the word best friend the other night but then he’s also said we’re together.
I don’t know. I need to ask him but he’s at work for the next 2 hours.
I Can’t wait that long.
And what if he says no. What does that mean. That suddenly he’s changed his mind because of someone else?
****

I used to have interaction on here but for the past 6 months my account has had zero.
No one is seeing my writing. Please help

Stumbling upon something unexpected
and beautiful when you’re out in nature
I think brings to light what really matters.
It makes you feel small, compared to the giants that have been built with time.
It was there before you, and it’ll be there after you.
So whatever is going on inside your head that feels enormous, suddenly shrinks.
It doesn’t go away, but it’s not as painful..
For now.

Last night I dreamed I was holding onto you,
I could feel my arms losing you as
my eyes fluttered awake.
I missed you immediately.
I wish you were here

I never expected to feel you with me when you left.
I didn’t think texting and talking on the phone would keep us close.
But when I get a text, I feel happy.
When the X-files theme song begins to play I can’t cut it off quick enough and answer.
It’s still there.
Even though I can’t see you,
I still love you.







I do actually pray I will see you again.

I still want our’s to be the story
that could be written as a romance novel.
I still hope that 5 years from now,
when we’re both done with college,
starting our lives for real
that you’ll think of me.
And we can finally be together.
We’d buy a cute little house,
get a cute little dog and get married.
We would travel and workout together.
Do projects around the house,
have breakfast before work at the table.
I still want that.

I thought I was gonna make
it through just one day without crying.
But the tears managed to squeeze out
of the corner of my eyes as I tried to
fall asleep.
Sliding down my cheek and soaking
into my pillow,
leaving a black smudge from leftover
mascara.
I still love him.
I’m afraid I always will.

I don’t want to let you in
because I already know how it ends.

I imagined sitting beside him.
Leaned against his shoulder,
laughing about something.
I felt like I was home again.
I don’t know how to move on from that.
I feel lonely and scared around other people
because my person isn’t there.
I don’t feel safe without him.

I had a dream about you.
I know you were there although
I can’t remember your face.
But I felt it in my heart when I woke up alone.

It was a warm spring night.
She lay on her bed, one leg half under the sheet.
She wore a teal night gown, the color her mother said matched her skin tone.
The space fan whirred in the corner,
the tv casting color into the dark room.
But it felt quiet, for once in her life.
The only voice she could hear would be her own.
So she spoke.
“It will be okay.”

Sometimes I have trouble spending time
with myself.
I make bad decisions, maybe I’ll drink too much, or waste money on stupid things.
I don’t think I’m very pretty to look at
and my gut hasn’t stopped growing since
sometime last year.
I can be funny, I guess.
But I’m too sarcastic and pessimistic.
I’m not original, I can’t draw, paint, write or dance.
I don’t even have good style.
I know everyone says you have to love yourself before you can love anyone else...
But I think some ******* said that once and since it kinda sounds like Dr. Seuss we all just took it as bible.
Because I have definitely loved someone,
and treated them better than I treat myself.
I don’t know, I wish I could be someone else.

I can’t go back and read anything
I’ve written in the last year.
I don’t know if I ever will.
It makes my stomach hurt.
So I’ve kind of quit writing;
for now.
I don’t need to remember this
part of my life.

Sometimes I feel such
painful, deep sadness that I want
to scream but because I am an adult
I just scream inside my head.
That’s not crazy right?
Yeah I’m totally fine.

I went to the store today.
The frozen food aisle was a ghost town.
I saw a tumble **** roll by.
Everybody had full carts of milk, eggs, bread.
Doritos and Mountain Dew.
The essentials ya know?
I just went through the aisles and got food
that would give me comfort.
I can live off of sandwiches and sadness just fine.

I try to enjoy every moment I can,
even the ones that get under my skin
because it’s for the last time.
Hauling our ***** clothes to the laundromat,
and struggling to find an open washer.
Getting a beer at Wings while we wait.
Going to our favorite pizza place for the 200th time;
hold the mushroom add bacon.
And then stopping at UDF for a scoop of
cotton candy ice cream.
The fight to get him to wake up to his alarm the first time it goes off, even though it usually takes an hour.
Every hug I hold for a second longer.
I don’t let go of his hand in the car.
I have cried to him and wished I could go back in time, I’d do everything differently so we would’ve lasted forever... somehow.
He said it wasn’t me, I was his favorite girl but everything comes to an end eventually.
And now is that time.

My energy likes being around yours.
Two souls bouncing around the atmosphere, who somehow found the other and it felt warm and safe.
And now I can’t remember what it was like before we met.

I’m embarrassed of my life.
I’m getting fat because I spend every dollar I make on food,
I work less than 4 hours a day cleaning toilets.
I get drunk and cry about the same **** I’ve been crying about for a year,
and can’t remember what I said the next day.
The other night I threw up into a grocery bag
multiple times.
My “friends” pity me because I can’t stop ******* up.
My car is a 20 year old fish bowl that was a huge waste of money,
and I had to move home at 24 because I couldn’t be responsible after getting my heart broken.
I’m still irresponsible.

I want to throw out this version of me and get the upgrade but I make myself look stupid every time I leave the safety of my bed.
Can’t someone just reprogram me instead?

I can see the dark clouds disappearing,
it feels like the first sign of spring.
But I haven’t come back home yet.
I’m so close.
I’ve come so far from crying so hard I thought someone might call the cops;
in a house that belonged to the person I hated.
I did anything to try to forget or fill that empty hole in my heart.
I couldn’t eat or sleep so I replaced it with thin white lines and alcohol and that didn’t help either.
My friends had no clue what to say to me but I’m grateful that they tried.
I disassociated while my brain replayed my nightmares, so I lost my job because they saw I wasn’t there.
I texted my mom that I needed to move back in because I hit the bottom and lost everything.

But I’ve been climbing and fighting my way back up. I really thought that pain would never go away but I can finally see the sun peaking through the cracks.
I don’t want to say, “it gets better” but it does.
It took me 7 months to get here, and I still have a long way to go.

It is so weird how the heart and mind
have to heal after they’re wounded, just like if you broke a bone.
It takes time, sometimes a long time.
You might start to hate yourself or take all the blame and feel like it’ll never get better.
You have to work every day to get stronger
and slowly you become more able to live a normal life.
The pain subsides after awhile and sometimes you even forget you were ever hurt.
It’s all a scientific process that I’m not smart enough to explain.
Just be patient, and brave.

This used to be a safe place to go to talk about your feelings while practicing writing. Now it’s just another form of Twitter where everyone thinks it’s okay to be hateful and nasty in the comments and have no respect for the person that is going to read them.

Like the account - charlie’s favorite
They made fun of my name, called me blind and stupid and then blocked me for asking them to not be nasty in the comments of someone’s poem. Don’t support that person

I want you to know I have wanted to write a book since
I was 5 years old. Since I would send short stories to
Children’s magazines I would find on the back cover
of a scholastics, just hoping they might pick me.
They never did, but I kept trying until I grew old
enough to become self conscious about what I have to say.
Is it important? I still wonder that now, and often I find the
answer is no, it is not. To anyone but me anyway.
But I’m a bit of a narcissist. I know this because I have been
in the darkest depths of depression. Like at the bottom of
the ocean, hiding under a rock like a scared crab. Paralyzed with
fear, ready to stay there forever. But yet, I don’t want to die
because without me the world wouldn’t exist, and for
some reason naive hope dwells within me still.
So maybe what I have to say is important. To me.
And to you too. Guess we’ll never know until I write
that book.

I don’t want him to leave.
But I don’t know how to tell him.
I don’t think I ever will.
He’ll just disappear from my life forever,
and I’ll just have to move on..
If that’s possible.

I don’t want him to leave.