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.

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?

When you live alone
you realize there is
no one else there to
**** the spider.
You have to do it.

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 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 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?
****

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.

You get used to being alone,
but it never gets easier.
So you find company
where you can,
at the bar next to the old man
who buys everyone’s round.
At work, with your
coworkers who you
see more than your family.
But it doesn’t fill the void.
Just helps numb
you at the time.
It’s funny that you
begin to miss
old relationships,
because at least you were
always together.
Even if you weren't getting along.
Two drinks and the night
would either go
north or south.
The unpredictability
is no longer a factor
but at least it
made things interesting.

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’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.

I keep ending up
in this bed alone.
Squishing this stupid
marble he tossed at me
earlier,
and said
Keep it safe.
Its been rolling between
my fingers ever since.
But I can’t stop wondering
why,
why he’d give me this
with no intention behind it.
No intention.
The marble.
Or his word to me.

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.

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 went to the bar by myself.
My favorite one that’s
right by the railroad tracks
and has a big red neon
light that shines the name
of the joint.
I had a shot of fireball
and a miller light
and wasted my money
on touch tunes.
No man,
just ones in my inbox.
About to finish this beer and
head home.
Just drunk enough,
to enjoy music and a
cigarette.
I love Wednesdays.

One time someone
handed me a book called,
How to stop worrying
and start living.
And I laughed out loud.
They looked confused
and said,
I thought it might
be helpful.

As I’m laying on
the front porch fold out chair
I’m looking at the house
next door.
It’s beautiful and mature
under the full moon,
clouds racing by.
Looks comfortable and safe.
Warm.
I wonder if the
woman who
lives there ever sleeps on
the porch too,
to get away from
the man inside.

I once made out with a guy
I now consider a friend
in front of a bar until he asked
to go back to my place.
I could barely drive because
he couldn’t keep his hands off me.
As I fumbled to unlock the door he
had his arms around my waist,
kissing my neck.
Once we made it to my bed he
kept saying how long he had been
wanting to do this with me,
and then in between drunken kisses
he slurred, I love you.
I actually laughed and said,
No you don’t, you just love me right now.

What goes around
comes around.
That’s what I have to
remind myself.
So be good,
and good will come.

I’m laying in his bed
and he’s not home yet.
I am taking deep
breaths and repeating
the same thing I always do
when I feel like this.
Everything is fine,
everyone is safe,
You’re okay.
I’ve been pulling my
hair out nonstop
the last few weeks.
I need to shave my head.

The men who
have been in my life
are messy.
Literally and metaphorically.
One drank too much,
has trouble with the law.
The other is bad with money
and he doesn’t
know how to clean.
They struggle with
bipolar, depression
and anxiety
and they looked to me for comfort
but offered little in return.
They aren’t bad guys,
and I see myself in their
flaws
but I can’t save them.
And I don’t want to.
They see something in
me, and I see the potential
they hold.
I think that’s why I invited
them in
but it’s my turn to be
taken care of.
I’ve spent my life helping
others, and putting myself last.
Are men capable of
really being a good partner?

I realized I had been wrong
when I came in the door.
He was sat on the couch,
one ear bud in
quietly drawing in his
sketchbook.
He greeted me with a
“Hi pretty Paige”
and kissed me.
I pulled out my IPad and
we sat like that for awhile
until he looked at me
and said,
I missed you.
It caught me off guard
from convincing myself
he never thinks of me,
so I sheepishly said
I missed you too
and he kissed me on the forehead.
That’s when I knew
I had been wrong.
He’s an artist, he’s quiet.
He doesn’t say all that much
but I think he doesn’t
feel the need to.
He just shows it.
But I am a writer.
Words are like facts to me.
I need to hear and see the proof.
We continued to color
and draw in the quiet of his
living room,
until we walked to the gas station
to get cigarettes, a slurpee
and snacks.
He continued being affectionate,
and I tried my best to stay up late
with him.
He told me he had missed
hanging out with me like this,
and I told him I did too.
And I really had.

He walked me to my car,
while coming up with dorky
ways to say
I’m pretty.
He lit a cigarette
and I hugged him.
He kissed me a few times
and said,
I really enjoy your company.
I smiled and said,
me too.

I was busy filling my head
with all the reasons he will
never love me,
just letting that voice
control how I feel
when his name popped
up on my phone
and he said,
Hi pretty girl
I missed you this morning.

I smiled and spun in my chair
and told him I missed him too.
And I told my brain to shut up.